


Exactly According to Plan

by lord_squiggletits (megatrons_mouth_laser)



Series: Not According to Plan (B-MegOP Smut 'Verse) [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage Contract, Crying, Dating, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Face-Fucking, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Humor, Idiots in Love, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Megatron's Very Serious Research TM, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Porn Watching, Porn With Plot, Possessive Sex, Praise Kink, Romantic Comedy, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Spreader Bars, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Subspace, Switching, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Voice Kink, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megatrons_mouth_laser/pseuds/lord_squiggletits
Summary: Megatron is determined to give Optimus Prime the best frag of his life, but doesn't stop to consider why.Optimus wonders if this means that Megatron likes him.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: Not According to Plan (B-MegOP Smut 'Verse) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980904
Comments: 58
Kudos: 237





	1. Gathering (and Losing) Intelligence

Soundwave was working diligently in his office as always when the call to his personal frequency came.

"Good evening, Megatron. What do you require?" He had barely remembered to dispense of his old friend's title before speaking. Some habits died hard.

"Soundwave," Megatron rasped. "The Decepticon communications network is still online, yes?"

"Affirmative."

"And all of the firewalls are still updated? There is still utmost security and privacy?"

Soundwave turned away from the console he had been using to manage the general Cybertronian communication network and slid a secret compartment from his desk. Tapping a few times on the revealed datapad, he pulled up the administration options and took a quick look. "Affirmative. Megatron's access code: still valid."

"Excellent, Soundwave. Your services are, as always, superior." The call ended.

Soundwave laced his fingers together on the desk in consideration. Then he pulled up a different menu, revealing all of the active users on the Decepticon network. As expected, Megatron was the only active user besides himself.

It wouldn't hurt to take a brief look into his activity. If whatever Megatron was searching for was important enough to warrant the security of the old wartime network, then it must be the sort of matter that he might like assistance with in the future. Soundwave never wanted to be unprepared; the best tactic, he had learned during the long years of war, was to prepare for all necessities in advance.

Such was his thought process as he clicked on Megatron's profile and began surveying his search history...

Soundwave reset his optics. His helm felt like molten lead was slowly being poured on top of it. He wasn't malfunctioning, but surely Megatron couldn't be looking at-- couldn't be using the Decepticon network to download--

He let out a faint wheeze of high-pitched static before he cut himself off. He ventilated deeply, disengaged his visor and mask, and rubbed his face.

Well. He would leave Megatron to his own devices on  _ that  _ front of information gathering. Somewhere behind the intense desire to wipe his memory banks clean, Soundwave distantly approved of Megatron's choice of networks; with as good security as the Decepticon network had, his old friend wouldn't have to risk downloading any viruses, at least.

Soundwave sighed deeply, and began covering Megatron's tracks.

  
  
  


Megatron had very, very important information to gather.

He refused to be taken by surprise again-- not by an oversensitive array, not by the skillful touch of hands on his plating, and certainly not by being commanded to  _ ask _ for his overload. However, a lifetime spent in menial drudgery, fleeing from the law, leading a revolution, and then waging millions of years of civil war hadn't exactly given Megatron the time to explore the finer details of interfacing.

He was going to remedy that. Interfacing was a skill; skills could be honed through knowledge and practice; Megatron had the means and the determination to acquire both. The next time Megatron lured Optimus Prime to his berth-- and Megatron  _ knew  _ that there was going to be a next time-- the Prime wouldn't find him nearly so easy to frag into submission. He was, in fact, going to find himself on the receiving end of it, and he was going to love it, beg for it,  _ scream Megatron's name for it. _

His interface array pinged him for attention. Megatron ignored it easily; the towel laid out beneath him was wet with the evidence of just how many times he had overloaded himself already, so he wasn't about to become a wanton slave to his own frame again. He had made quite a bit of progress on the problem of his oversensitive array; multiple overloads each for his spike and valve, spread out over a cycle, had been enough to recalibrate his array to a state that no longer had him overloading every time he so much as laid a finger on himself. However, the fact that his refractory period had remained virtually nonexistent was very pleasing to Megatron: yet another weapon he had in his arsenal to pay Optimus back for fragging him until he couldn't walk.

Back to the business at hand.

Megatron wiped his hands with another sanitized rag, just to make sure they were extra clean before he picked up his data pad and started scrolling through the most recent of his searches. This was pleasurable research, but it was still research; Megatron was looking for something more than satisfying his own frame.

He tapped the first video that satisfied his parameters-- something called  _ The Empress and her Splendid Servant-- _ and scrolled through the video preview.

Before Megatron did anything else, he ran an anti-viral program. As expected, it caught two viruses and burned the code out of the video's streaming access key. Megatron ran another two programs just to be certain it was clean; the Decepticon network's security was too finely programmed for anything from a mere pornography website to be able to hide malware, but he wasn't about to let anything touch his sensory systems without being absolutely certain there were no risks attached. 

That done, Megatron opened a panel in his arm and unwound the jack, plugged it into his data pad, and then released the data pad's jack to plug into his own port.

At first the data connection was cool and empty. Megatron's finger hovered over the "Integrated Sensory Experience" icon. He ran one more anti-viral program just to be safe, then clicked.

His cords buzzed with the sudden influx of data, which pinged his sensory system for access. Megatron cautiously allowed the stream partial access; he felt an odd sense of swooping vertigo, like his engines had stalled out in the middle of flight. He touched one shoulder, trying to reorient himself around the sensation of occupying a different frame. Neither visual nor aural sensation had loaded in yet, but he knew from the preview and the integrated sensory stream that he was currently occupying the view of the large, yellow she of the two.

Megatron resisted the urge to shift from dysphoria; it seemed to stay settled as long as he didn't move or touch his own frame. That was probably the result of him refusing to allow the stream full sensory access, but he simply couldn't allow himself to lose complete awareness of his surroundings.

The video began.

_ "My beautiful Empress," Splendid said, kneeling at the foot of a lavishly cushioned berth. Her partner's interface array was on full display as she shifted to rest one foot on Splendid's shoulder. "Please, may I service you?" _

_ "You may," the other gray-and-black frame purred. "Go ahead and take your pick. If you impress me, I might service  _ you  _ the way you like it." _

_ Two yellow fingers immediately dove inside the supple gray valve to work at the tight calipers within. Empress kept her nonchalant expression, from where Splendid could see it with her spike partially in the way, but her lips kept pressing together in an effort to keep back her soft cries. _

Megatron groped his way back to conscious processing and glared at the feed. He impatiently tapped a button to switch the perspective of the video, sitting through another shift in vertigo until he resettled into Empress' point of view.

_ Empress looked down at Splendid as she reclined on one elbow. It was starting to take an effort to keep her hips from rocking in time with Splendid's fingers; she would thrust in with a single smooth motion, then curl her fingers against a cluster of sensors, stroking back and forth until Empress almost let out a moan, then slide her fingers back out. _

Megatron slowly turned his palm up from where it was resting on the surface of his berth and copied the motion. It was harder to sync with the video since he had moved out of Splendid's view, but he eventually got the timing right. He was distantly aware of his own valve starting to drip and clench in time with Empress' in the video, but this endeavor wasn't about chasing his own pleasure. He needed firsthand experience so that he could be certain whatever he saw was truly pleasurable, and not some invention for the benefit of a good camera angle. He had read and seen plenty of that in an earlier session of research, and now here he was.

_ Splendid's mask retracted from her face. Empress watched as she brought her fingers to her lips and started licking the lubricant off, sometimes diving her tongue to probe all the way at the seam between her fingers. Her optics and biolights twinkled suggestively. _

Megatron vented harder, imagining blue plating instead of yellow, and a different face under the mask.

_ "I grow impatient," Empress said, hoarseness making her vocalizer buzz. She hooked her heel around the back of Splendid's neck and pulled her in. "I am not satisfied with your service yet, Splendid."  _

_ The yellow she just hummed happily and said, "Yes, my Empress," then kissed her valve over and over again, shamelessly making eye contact even as her lips smacked wetly against the folds of Empress' valve and her tongue laved the mesh like she was trying to taste every inch of it. _

_ Then she used two fingers to part the folds hiding Empress' anterior node and leaned in to flick lightly over it with her tongue-- one, two, three-- and then licked with the entire length of her tongue, sending an unrelenting pulse of charge all the way up Empress' back strut--  _

Megatron was wrenched out of the data stream by an error message on his HUD reading "Warning: system misalignment, outside data terminated," which was all the warning he got before he overloaded.

"Damn it," he growled to his empty room once his charge simmered down. Well, when making tactical plans, it was also important to know one's own weak points in order to compensate for them. At least he knew not to let Optimus anywhere near his node if he wanted to last. And this method of information gathering showed promise.

Megatron frowned. Of course, what good would it do to practice fingering a valve on nothing but empty air? He could self-service his own, of course, but the positioning was completely different, and-- he remembered the last thing the two mechs in the video had been doing-- he could hardly practice oral play on himself.

He considered the problem for several minutes as he flicked through the rest of the videos on the website, saving all the ones with hardline compatibility and sending the anti-viral programs to scour them clean. As his optics wandered over the video titles, the simple solution came to him.

Megatron grinned fiercely as he opened another tab and began typing.

Optimus Prime had no idea what was coming for him.

  
  
  


Optimus had a serious problem. Possibly more than one, actually, and none of them looked like they would be going away any time soon. Especially because one of them was a large, cunning, Decepticon-former-warlord-shaped problem that Optimus had never been able to get rid of in more than four million years, and now that the war was over, could no longer banish for a few centuries by smashing his faceplates in.

Not that he wanted to smash Megatron's faceplates in. Most of the time, anyways. Except for the times when Megatron was completely insufferable and Optimus just wanted to shut him up. And what a coincidence-- he had recently discovered a new technique for doing just that, and it was so much more enjoyable to pound Megatron into the ground with his spike instead of his fists...

Optimus forcibly terminated every active process related to "pounding Megatron," leaving his processor spinning from the sudden void of activity. Then he covered his face with his hands and groaned.

He had many serious problems, in fact, and one of them was that he couldn't stop thinking about the... incident in Megatron's office a few days ago. Which was wrong! He was a normal, civilized mech who wanted proper courtship and consent when pursuing a partner! Never in his wildest dreams of a future partnership had he pictured himself capable of something so brutish. 

So what if Megatron made him lose his temper in a way no other sentient being had ever managed? That wasn't any excuse for throwing him to the ground and ravishing him until that arrogant smirk gave way to the most open, uninhibited expression of pleasure Optimus could have imagined seeing on that gorgeous face--

The painful clank of Optimus' spike hitting the back of his panel brought him quickly back to reality. He groaned again and rolled over onto his front so that his spike couldn't get any more ideas about its odds of coming out from behind there.

Anyways, problem number one was that Megatron had most definitely not forgotten their little tangle. The two of them hadn't exactly gone out of their way to avoid  _ or  _ encounter each other, but every time Megatron did cross Optimus' path... He never stopped what he was doing, or acted like anything had changed between them, but his gaze would become hot and focused. Optimus always turned away after a few moments, but he could still feel Megatron's optics on him like a physical touch on his plating.

Megatron was definitely planning something.

Maybe he was trying to find a way to back up Optimus in an abandoned room, force him to the ground, then have his way with Optimus until he--

Before Optimus could stop himself, his valve panel snapped open.

For Primus' sake! Optimus did not at all get off to the thought of fragging-- or being fragged-- like that! Megatron--  _ Megatron!-- _ was a serious warrior, deadly and powerful, especially since he had upgraded to that sleek black flight frame. That strength was something Optimus only appreciated as an old warrior who respected Megatron's skill as much as the other did his own. It was the height of vulgarity for Optimus to look at Megatron and imagine those hands trapping him on his back, keeping his legs pinned open no matter how hard he squirmed, and waiting until he was exhausted to finally pop out his spike and frag him until he couldn't even remember how to speak--

Optimus grabbed the edge of his valve panel and manually slid it back into place, not even letting go when he felt the panel locks click shut. He felt wholly ridiculous, laying curled up in his own berth with both hands over his panels.

He needed to find a way to stop this somehow.

A few minutes later, Optimus retrieved his data pad. His hand hovered over the query bar-- his other hand still physically keeping his panels shut-- and wondered what the hell he was trying to look for.

_ is it normal to like _

_ i feel guilty when i think of _

_ what is it called when _

No, no, those were all too-- vulnerable. Optimus knew logically that he was completely alone and his network was secure, but he still felt ashamed for even thinking about indulging his curiosity. But he had faced down four million years of war, so there was no excuse for him to be so squeamish about a...private fixation.

Finally he decided on the most mundane query he could think of--  _ "questions about interfacing" _ \-- and entered.

The first few results were safely mundane-- perfectly normal question-and-answer websites about basic interfacing functions and safety measures-- but Optimus already knew all of those things. He still procrastinated on making the search he was truly after, reasoning to himself that it wouldn’t hurt to get some reminders on how to take care of himself and his partner, who he may or may not have been imagining as Megatron.

Finally, one of the websites actually gave a brief overview of kinks on its list of sexual terminology, and linked to another website with a more “thorough” explanation. Optimus vented, then clicked it.

The next hour was one of the most alarmingly enlightening of Optimus’ entire functioning, as he learned that not only were his little fixations completely normal, they were also completely  _ tame _ in relation to some of the things that other mechs were into. Some of the things he saw made him squint in confusion; some of them made him quickly scroll past before he learned something he shouldn’t; and some of them made steam shoot out of his smokestacks. He had to keep his panels from opening a few times--  _ again. _

Finally, he turned off the data pad and set it on his nightstand, then laid in the sudden darkness with his free hand across his abdomen and pondered.

So the feelings he had for Megatron were more-or-less completely normal, which was a relief. No website could prepare him for the reality of being attracted to Megatron, but that was fine. Optimus could face whatever changes came of their relationship due to the incident in Megatron’s office, whether he had to apologize again or...repeat the experience. The more he thought about it, the more Optimus desperately  _ wanted _ to repeat the experience, and he finally let his panels slide open.

The relief of his spike pressurizing was intense enough that he moaned quietly before stifling himself with two fingers pressing his vocalizer. He had never been able to stay completely silent during self-servicing or interfacing. Now that his spike and valve were on display and eager for attention, Optimus didn't know where to begin, physically or mentally. Some of the things he had seen described on the websites he saw were enough to make him wet just reading about them, but even so...going as far as to imagine himself and Megatron doing such things was too intense for him right now.

He started with a single finger on the edge of his valve, rubbing lightly over the lips with just enough pressure to start building a needy ache in his array. Every now and then he dipped between the lips to catch a drip of lubricant before it emerged, slicking it over the outside of his valve so that his movements were easier. He added another finger and just kept up that gentle, stroking pace until he had gathered enough lubricant to cover the palm of his hand.

Then he moved his hand to his spike and started stroking with the same slowness he had used for his valve, making sure the whole length was completely lubricated before he started pumping faster. That was how Megatron had done it a few days ago; completely confident and intense, alternating between staring at his spike and at his face, that smirk pulling up the left corner of his mouth higher than the other while his hand slid over every inch of Optimus' spike with just the right grip until Optimus hadn't been able to hide how much it was affecting him.

He involuntarily bucked up into the grip of his own hand. He had never had any difficulties self-servicing, but now it was like he was touching himself for the first time all over again. Every stroke brought a fresh crackle of charge through his frame. Even though he wasn't close to overloading yet, he was already venting hard and having to choke back his moans, which sounded obscenely loud in the otherwise silent room.

Optimus touched his valve with his free hand, gathering up lubricant and sliding one finger inside. It didn't take long for him to work himself up enough to take a second one without strain. He could keep going until all four of his fingers were inside of him, but the pleasure was already becoming overwhelming. He didn't need to do anything complicated with his hands; he had Megatron to think of.

What was truly intoxicating was seeing Megatron bent over and yielding his body over to pleasure-- all that strength and pride set aside so that he could buck back against Optimus' thrusts and moan, showing without words how much he was truly enjoying himself. Just-- just letting Optimus put his hands on his waist and hips to fuck him even harder. Optimus could already remember half a dozen handholds that were absolutely perfect to fit his hands on top of, where he could feel all that elegant power of Megatron's body moving in perfect sync with his own.

Now, Optimus' only regret was that he had been too hasty to explore Megatron's body with the type of thorough worship he deserved. He wanted to see what other places would fit his hands like Megatron had been made for him. He wanted to find seams he could dig into and tease until Megatron would beg him to spike him harder. He wanted to find plating to grip while Megatron spiked him relentlessly until all he could do was hold on.

Optimus found his rhythm; he bucked his spike into the tight grip of his hand, then rolled his hips back into the berth to take his fingers deep into his valve. He kept moving, and moving, too lost in pleasure to hold back his noises, until he overloaded with a loud cry as his entire body arched off of the surface of his berth.

He floated in post-overload bliss for a while after that, not even caring about the sticky mess on his hands and between his legs. This felt so much better, easier, than trying to deny what he felt. Maybe it was strange, maybe everyone would think he was crazy if they knew, but that didn’t matter. It felt right.

Optimus finally pulled himself out of the berth and cleaned everything up. He sighed with fond exasperation as he settled down to recharge. Megatron had yet again managed to get under his plating, but Optimus couldn’t even be annoyed about that right now.

  
  
  


Swindle was about to make his biggest sale since the end of the war.

When he'd first gotten that anonymous message a week ago, he'd been thinking for a second that it would be for the really dangerous stuff-- something possibly not in the lane of legality, which was great for charging crazy extra, but not so great for his stress levels. But instead, after a thorough round of questions on all of the merchandise he had in stock, the crazy fragger had bought a different kind of "secret" merchandise: dozens of interface holos-- with hardline compatibility!-- and at least two of pretty much every kind of toy, restraint, gag, lubricant and other interface accessory that Swindle had.

Whatever, to each mech their own and all that, Swindle couldn't care less what got this person's gears turning-- the hottest part of the deal was the total number of credits after Swindle had tallied everything up. He had actually needed to lay down for a few klicks to let his fuel pump return to normal speed before he could start messaging his secret client again to arrange a time and place for the exchange.

It was the dead of night in a little alleyway in a part of Iacon that hadn't been rebuilt yet, and Swindle cheerily spun his wheels and tried not to fidget too loudly as he waited. The client had been awfully insistent on secrecy for this whole thing, which, okay-- the sheer volume of stuff this person had ordered was a little intense even for someone like Swindle, and he had sold all types of freaky slag without (visibly) blinking an optic. Plenty of mechs were shy about interfacing stuff, anyways. There definitely wasn't any need to worry about this deal going south somehow.

Suddenly, Swindle heard a whoosh high in the sky, along with the faint whine of wings cutting through the air. Holy slag, that was a powerful engine to be moving that fast and that quietly-- definitely a Decepticon, then. Swindle wasn't exactly a sparkfelt loyalist to the Decepticons, but no Aerialbot or neutral could measure up to that level of quality in a flight frame. (He had sold quite a few engine parts on the black market himself, so he would know, heh.)

There was the  _ chuk-chuk-whirr _ of a transformation, then heavy pedes hit the ground just around the corner.

A Decepticon was the absolute best client Swindle could've possibly gotten. Definitely no risk of being threatened unless he took a stupid risk with haggling, but he knew everyone with the brand well enough to not do that. Even more enticingly, there was always the chance of sweetening the deal-- on his end, at least-- with a little bit of blackmail. He knew enough dirty secrets that he could yank someone's brakes hard enough to get a higher sale.

This was incredible.  _ Never been so lucky in my life,  _ Swindle thought, too happy to resist breaking the quiet with a happy little tune.

His song broke off into a strangled, glitched squeak when he saw who it was.

"Ah, always there to turn a profit, aren't you, Swindle?" Megatron sneered. Megatron. Slagging  _ Megatron. _ Standing there in an alleyway so dark that not even the glow of his biolights was enough for Swindle to see much more than threatening outlines of, oh yeah, that's right, a body that had been built to destroy entire-fragging-cities with the force it took to crush an insect.  _ That  _ Megatron.

Swindle bleeped out something that vaguely resembled an aft-kissing, enthusiastic greeting. Oh slag, oh slag, this wasn't some kind of trick, was it? Lord-slagging-Megatron wasn't about to drop-kick him all the way to Vos for selling him some interface aids, right?! He had  _ asked  _ for them! There were a lot better ways to test his loyalty, or whatever it was he wanted, than trying to pull some sort of fast one on him, oh frag Swindle was going to  _ die-- _

"Swindle!" Megatron growled. "Stop glitching and hand over what I asked for."

"Yeah--! Yeah sure, right on, Megatron! I mean, yes sir--"  _ Frag frag frag! _ Swindle started pulling out the bags of wrapped merch as fast as he could pull them out of subspace. "Everything right here, Lord Megatron, down to the last item! Tip-top shape! And, aha, you know, if anything is defective or anything, replacements free of charge! Anything you need! No questions asked!"

Megatron's optics narrowed. "Just give me your payment terminal and shut up."

Swindle almost dropped his calculator bringing it out of subspace, and then had to swipe Megatron's chip multiple times before it took. Swindle dropped the chip back into his hand-- no way was he gonna put his hand in Megatron’s and risk getting it snapped off if Megatron twitched the wrong way.

"Continue to be of use, and you might see more profit," Megatron rumbled, taking the packages into his arms. "And Swindle?"

"Y-Yeah, Lord Megatron?"

"Your absolute discretion is included in this deal," Megatron said. "If I hear a single whisper of this on the rumor networks, I will turn your insides into axle grease."

Swindle babbled agreement-- yeah Lord Megatron, no problem, complete privacy, my word's as good as your money, Decepticon's honor-- not stopping until Megatron was a small dot zooming away into the night sky.

He heaved a deep sigh of relief. But now that the imminent threat of death was gone, Swindle quickly forgot his terror in the face of the high number of credits that had just entered his bank account. He even chuckled a little bit as he patted his subspace compartment and left the alleyway nonchalantly.

Considering some of the items that had been on Megatron's list, Swindle was pretty sure it was some other poor mech who was gonna get his insides turned into axle grease.


	2. Negotiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still Thanksgiving for me at the time of posting this, so I'd like to thank all the people who made Not According to Plan my most-viewed smut fic at the time of this update, and the people who leave comments talking about how excited they were for more. They really help me feel motivated to bring a feast of content!
> 
> Anyways, have some more of these idiots. (The actual sex scene will happen in the next chapter, which is already 90% written thanks to NaNoWriMo.)
> 
> Extremely minor content warning for mention of non-con: The contract negotiation scene has a mention that one of Megatron's hard limitations is rape play. Everything else is completely fun and consensual, though!

It had been weeks now, and still Megatron hadn't done anything.

Optimus knew he had to be planning something. Megatron had never taken one single blow from Optimus without returning it in kind, and he didn't expect this new frontier between them to be any different.

The memory of self-servicing to thoughts of Megatron kept coming back to Optimus during those moments. The guilt or embarrassment he had half-expected to arise never came. In fact, Optimus had self-serviced to thoughts of Megatron multiple times since that first night, and it never stopped feeling any less right than before.

Megatron had probably done the same. That thought only came to Optimus when he was alone and his mind drifted from whatever dull daily task he was working on, and the certainty of it made his entire body crackle with charge.

But Optimus had meant it when he told Megatron that he didn't want to presume what his wants were. If-- When they finally confronted each other again, Optimus wasn't going to lose his control again.

  
  
  


One day while Optimus was in the middle of paperwork in his office, there was a short knock at his door. It shortly slid open to reveal Bumblebee.

"Hello," Optimus said, genuinely touched to see the yellow mech. They rarely had time to talk about anything except work these days, and the fact that Bumblebee had come by unannounced meant that it was more likely to be for something personal than for business.

Well, hopefully. Peacetime on Cybertron didn't entirely reduce the possibility of crises happening, but that probably wasn't the case here. Bumblebee looked calm, if a bit reserved and nervous.

"Hi, Optimus," Bumblebee replied. "I hope you don't mind me coming in unannounced, but there was something I thought you should know about."

"Oh?" Optimus waved for him to come inside and stood up from his desk, taking the couch at the side of the room and motioning Bumblebee to do the same.

"It's about Megatron," he said after he sat down, in a slightly hushed voice-- that mix of reluctant respect and trepidation that many mechs carried towards the former warlord, even decades after he had agreed to end the war with Optimus.

"Oh." Optimus hoped his voice sounded normal; rampant lust wasn't exactly something he wanted to become public perception of the relationship between him and Megatron. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he's just been acting a bit...more fixated on you than usual. I know you two have always had your..." Bumblebee paused diplomatically. "...rivalry, but Megatron has really been staring at you a lot more often lately. And Starscream has been complaining about-- well, what he means to say is that he's noticed Megatron has been a lot more secretive lately."

"I see." Optimus laced his fingers in his lap. "I have already noticed, but I appreciate your concern nonetheless. I... have a suspicion of what Megatron is up to, but I'm waiting to see how it pans out." A partial truth was the best way to be discrete, so Optimus added, "Megatron has never been one to be inactive for long. Whatever it is he wants to resolve with me, he will certainly make it known when he decides he wants to confront it."

"Right." Bumblebee was visibly straining to keep his expression neutral as he hurriedly added, "Well, I just wanted to be sure you knew, and that it wasn't the sort of attention you were uncomfortable with. If you think it's a problem the two of you can solve on your own, I can trust you on that judgment. Anyways, I only had time for a quick visit, so I'm sorry to be gone so soon, but--"

Within seconds, Bumblebee had excused himself and was out of the door.

Optimus slumped back against the couch, sliding down all the way until he was halfway towards falling off entirely.

Perhaps waiting for Megatron to make the first move wasn't as wise of a decision as he had first thought.

After only half an hour of paperwork that passed across his vision without even being registered in his short-term memory, Optimus conceded that it would be best to bite the bullet and initiate it first. So, doing his utmost to ignore the sensation that he was sticking his hand directly in an Insecticon hive, Optimus sent Megatron a text-only comm: [Meet me in my office if you're free, sooner rather than later. We should talk.]

Optimus kept his face in his hands for a while after that. He was just considering the prudence of sending a follow-up message clarifying that they could meet another day if it was more convenient when a sharp rapping came at his door.

"Fuck," Optimus whispered into his hands. He didn't know what else he had expected.

Unlike with Bumblebee, Optimus hadn't coded his door to open automatically in response to Megatron's personal signature, so instead of continuing to question his life choices, Optimus stood up and walked to the door. He tapped the wall panel to reveal Megatron standing almost chest-to-chest with him.

Must he always loom overly close to everything? Optimus briefly thought in exasperation before he was absorbed by the far more immediate fact that Megatron was staring as intensely as he was. They were so close they were nearly touching; they hadn't been this close to each other since...since Optimus had fragged Megatron.

Optimus definitely needed to abort that line of thought before he got any more flustered, and he should probably move aside and let Megatron in already, but somehow his pedes wouldn't move. Anyways, Megatron didn't look like he was concerned about that. The light in his optics was glowing low like embers buried in ash, and Optimus could see how the fine mechanisms behind the glass were narrow and focused, no doubt taking in every detail of Optimus' face where it showed above his mask.

Optimus' plating was just starting to prickle in a wary and oddly pleasant way when Megatron raised his chin and said, "Well, were you planning on letting me in before sunset?"

He was right, but Optimus' engine still grumbled in a miffed way as he stepped back and shut the door after Megatron. He wanted to say something petty like "You seemed like you were enjoying the view too," but he held himself in check. No losing your head, remember?

"I'm surprised you were able to come so soon," Optimus said neutrally. He kept walking because he didn't know what else to do, and settled for leaning with one hand on the side of his desk. This wasn't a formal appointment; he wasn't going to sit behind his desk like Megatron was giving him a file.

Megatron gestured dismissively. "It's of no matter. You said you wanted to talk, Prime."

"Of course." Optimus considered how to broach the topic delicately, realized there was no subtle way to talk around "so I fragged you on your own desk a month ago," and decided to be direct. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

Megatron's face split into a lopsided grin. "Planning something? You speak of it like I'm plotting a conspiracy. What exactly have I been doing that's so unusual as to warrant this suspicion?"

"You know what you've been doing." Optimus waited for Megatron to respond, but the other's expression made it clear that he was going to make Optimus say it out loud. "You've been staring at me more often than usual.” The statement of fact sounded so juvenile when put into words. Optimus fought the urge to cringe.

"Oh? So you usually keep track of how often I stare at you?"

"Is that a confession that you do?" Optimus shot back.

"Confession implies guilt, Prime." Megatron stepped close until they were once again only inches from touching each other. He tilted his helm and leaned in until he was inches from Optimus’ mask. "And I know exactly what I'm doing," he breathed in a low hiss.

Optimus didn't speak; he knew if he tried, nothing but static would come out. He knew what Megatron was doing-- he wasn't even hiding how deliberately he was provoking him-- and yet Optimus wanted. He wanted so badly for Megatron to just press closer until Optimus was flat against the desk. He wasn't going to initiate it, but if Megatron did, he would let him, and then...

A loud creaking noise broke his reverie. Megatron smirked and stepped away, putting a healthy amount of distance between them again. Optimus looked down and saw that the edge of his desk was crumpled between his fingers.

He reset his vocalizer and let go of the desk. The damage was done; he could feel the waves of smug victoriousness rolling off of Megatron. Stiffly, Optimus said, "And how exactly does staring at me from afar for an entire month count as something you 'do?'"

"It was enough to make you call me here, wasn't it?"

This was going nowhere. Megatron was better at the word games-- he always had been. Optimus set his stance and decided to take the initiative. "So. Do you want to interface with me again?"

Megatron threw his helm back and laughed. Optimus had never heard him be so genuinely mirthful in his entire functioning; Megatron was actually shaking with laughter, the usual arrogant posturing completely absent. He was still chuckling as he said, "Really, Optimus? In the middle of the work day, right here and now?" His gaze drifted to the side and he added lasciviously, "I don't think that couch in the corner will fit both of us..."

"Obviously not here and now, you overcharged brute!" Not exactly a fine example of keeping his head, but oh, Primus-- for a split second, Optimus had actually considered it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and vented deeply. "I don't have a wash racks in my office, so interfacing here would be very...imprudent."

"Mmm, you don't want to walk through the hallways covered in my lubricant and transfluid? Fair enough."

"Megatron!" Annoyance and lust spun in an intoxicating cocktail within his processor. Primus, spiking Megatron into incoherence was looking like a more and more appealing alternative to this verbal sparring with every word out of Megatron's mouth.

"But to answer your question, Optimus..." Megatron's optics flared. "I do. I intend to return the favor you gave me in my office most thoroughly."

"So you want payback?"

"In a way, but you're only partially correct." The remnants of Megatron's smirk faded. "I'm not going to frag you like a rutting animal, you know. There's a reason I called it 'returning the favor.' If you say yes, I would make sure you enjoy it as much as I will."

"Oh." The truth of Megatron's words had registered logically, but it was still sinking into Optimus' processor slowly. "You mean it?"

"I mean it," Megatron rumbled. He smiled a little as he added, "I did tell you that I had no regrets over the first time, did I not? I'm not going to hurt you... that is, unless you want me to."

His voice went low and intimate again. It captivated Optimus' attention like no shout or roar ever had. That normally harsh timbre had smoothed over; it was the kind of tone that was intended for Optimus' audials only, and would have been as intimate as a whisper even in a crowded room. Optimus could almost feel it vibrate through his body. And the words... When Megatron dedicated himself to something, he almost always got what he wanted. If what he wanted was Optimus...

"I--" There were far too many things to think about in this whole exchange, not to mention the fact that his interface subsystem was still sending persuasive pings to his logic center about how effective it would be to just open his panels and throw himself at Megatron. "Could we arrange the details of this some other time? It's the middle of the work day," he added.

Which was true! He absolutely still had work to do and an appointment or two to make, and it wasn't like he could give Megatron his full attention with his schedule nagging at the back of his processor. The fact that work was also a convenient retreat to keep his lust from overwhelming his sense of reason was practically incidental. He was in control. He was! That was why he was giving such a logical reason for putting this-- proposition? arrangement?-- aside for another time. Personal business had to wait.

Surprisingly, Megatron didn't pursue the issue like Optimus had expected. He just rolled his shoulders leisurely and said, "Very well. Comm me when you're off, and we'll arrange a meeting time to...discuss it." He cast one last heavy-lidded stare at Optimus before palming open the door and leaving.

Without Megatron's presence in the room commanding his focus, Optimus realized two things: His cooling fans were whirring more loudly than the air conditioning, and he was most definitely dripping behind both of his panels.

For the next few hours, Optimus worked at a feverish pace, finishing paperwork and drafting proposals in personal record times that would have made Ultra Magnus proud. Ultra Magnus would have been far less proud, however, if he were to hypothetically know that the reason for Optimus' burst of productivity was the constant chant of "Don't self-service at work, don't self-service at work" in the back of his processor.

Optimus took an early leave from work for the first and possibly only time in millions of years so that he could zip back to his apartment and throw himself into his berth. Face shoved in his pillow, he had to overload three times with as many fingers buried in his valve before his charge was spent enough for him to calm down.

One cold shower, one bottle of coolant, and one shot of high-grade later, Optimus stalled...and stalled, and stalled. With his mind clear, he was starting to have doubts over how this was supposed to proceed. Was it normal to just... arrange an interface? It was certainly better than spontaneously fragging someone in his own office, but.. how should he bring it up? And what exactly did he want from it, anyways? Would their "score" be settled once Megatron fragged him, and they wouldn't continue again?

No, definitely not. Optimus wouldn't be able to handle a single casual frag and then pretending nothing had happened between them. He didn't want it to just be one frag; he wanted to have Megatron again, whenever he wanted, whenever Megatron would allow it. And...he wanted Megatron to have him too. 

Megatron probably wouldn't be satisfied with a one-time arrangement, either; when had he ever been satisfied with having what he wanted one time and then letting it go?

So, this was likely to become a permanent arrangement. Planning for that made this a little more simple, actually. Optimus finally sent Megatron a ping, venting deeply and gathering his words while he waited for the other to pick up.

  
  
  


The impatient itch under Megatron's plating instantly settled as soon as he got the ping from Optimus. In a flash, he opened a comm line to Optimus, but before he could say anything, the Prime initiated.

"Would you like to go on a date together?"

Megatron blinked. Then he reviewed all of the careful planning he had done over the past month and realized none of it had accounted for this. He had been so busy preparing for the interfacing that the finer details of proposing it to Optimus hadn't crossed his mind. Approach him, flirt and provoke until he was off balance, propose the frag, Optimus would say yes, and then at the first possible opportunity...

Mmh. Now that was an approach that lacked all subtlety or sophistication. He wasn't going to frag Optimus like a rutting animal, but he didn't want to frag him like it was a clinical business appointment either. Getting straight to the point certainly had the appeal of instant gratification, but… How had Megatron forgotten to calculate this? Tempting Optimus had to be more subtle, more impressive than just offering a casual frag. Damn it.

The quiet crackle of a clearing vocalizer drew Megatron's attention, and on pure instinct he answered, "Yes." He paused. "Yes, I do."

"That-- yes, good. Do you have anything in mind for where you'd like to go? Anything you'd like to do?"

Megatron ran down the list of skills he had to impress Optimus. Unfortunately, nearly all of them involved some level of violence that the other mech wouldn't appreciate very much. Besides, even Megatron with all his inexperience knew that fighting someone-- or fighting his own date, since Optimus was the only Cybertronian alive who could possibly be a challenge in a sparring match-- wasn't satisfactory for this type of encounter.

"What would you like to do?" Megatron countered, buying himself some time to think.

Optimus didn't reply for a short while, though Megatron could hear him making a thoughtful clicking sound. "It would probably be best if we went somewhere on the private side, fewer people. I don't want anyone to bother us while we're...seeing each other."

That ruled out almost all of the recreational venues that Megatron knew. He was going to have to add that to his list of things to research tonight. "I agree. How about a bar?" He remembered that much about socialization from his pre-war days, at least.

"Yes, but what if we do something else too? I was thinking just now that we could go to one of the gardens here in the city. I've, um, been thinking about going to a few of them whenever I had time, but I've just never gotten around to it."

Megatron instantly came alert. "Which ones?"

Optimus sent him a short list by text. "We did agree that we wanted somewhere more private, so not all of those would work, though I suppose it also depends on what day and time we go." Optimus added softly, "I'll take the whole day off so we have plenty of room to choose. Let's not worry about any scheduling conflicts."

The thought of having Optimus to himself for an entire day sent pleased warmth throughout Megatron's frame. Feeling very indulgent, Megatron offered, "You pick the garden, I'll pick the bar."

"Deal."

Neither of them said anything for a while. Megatron idly listened to the white noise on Optimus' end of the call while he went through his short mental list of ideal meeting places. Perhaps he could ask Soundwave about any bars that were Decepticon-owned; the respect he still commanded among his own soldiers would certainly grant the two of them privacy. On the other hand, no group of soldiers, especially bored soldiers-turned-civilians, could fully resist the appeal of gossip, and every veteran knew what both he and Optimus looked like.

It seemed this would take some more time of planning before he could get to the main event, but Megatron could be patient. Anything to make sure that this all would go exactly according to plan.

"There's one more idea I had," Optimus said. He spoke slowly, like he was either very cautious or very nervous and trying to hide it. "I'm sure you have...a great many things in mind for when we interface."

"I do," Megatron purred, dropping his voice to the register that had made Optimus so delectably flustered a few hours ago. "Let me guess, you called me so that I could tell you some of them?" Megatron entertained the thought of Optimus self-servicing on the other end of the line, but stopped when his panels began to grow warm. He might be able to have a little bit of fun, but not yet. He could keep that suggestion in reserve if Optimus started to get shy again.

"I-- ah, no, not exactly, or at least, not telling me--" The audio on Optimus' end shut off for a second before coming back. "What I mean is, you said you wanted it to be enjoyable for both of us, so I think we could both write down what it is we want to do and don't want to do? Set limitations, decide on a safe word...?" His voice went strained before trailing off. 

Megatron grinned. Oh Optimus, where ever did you learn about bondage contracts? Perhaps Optimus had done some research of his own in the past month... Megatron had known Optimus was still affected by their encounter, but having it all but confirmed made his anticipation burn twice as bright.

Megatron picked up his data pad. There was something in one of his most recent searches that should do-- yes, there. He sent the file to his personal databanks, then sent it to Optimus in a short ping. "How does this look?"

Optimus was silent for a while as he looked at the very long checklist Megatron had sent him. A faint disturbance in the white noise on his end marked the sound of his cooling fans turning on; Megatron could just barely make it out when he turned the volume louder.

"Um," was Optimus' only response.

"I can wait," Megatron said caressingly. "Take your time and make sure you write everything you have in mind. I'll show you mine after you show me yours."

"Oh-- okay. We can... wait until the date to negotiate the details. This is too important to not be face-to-face, would you agree?"

Megatron definitely wanted to watch Optimus squirm as he admitted his dirty little fantasies. He himself was already looking over the list and making marks with a stylus. Another part of his processor was speculating which ones Optimus might fill out himself. Unfortunately, Megatron had to secure one more pressing detail before he could indulge himself. "I agree. So, what day and time?"

  
  
  


Megatron spent the evening and most of the night before the date cleaning himself from head to toe: solvent to dissolve and dislodge any debris from his seams, then scented soap and a long-handled bristle brush to make sure all traces of dirt were gone. While Megatron stood in the rinsing stream of solvent, helm tipped back to make sure even his neck cables were clean, he pondered the viability of taking an oil bath too, but decided that that would be too obvious.

I'll save it for the day before interfacing. After all, the date was for them to spend time together and eventually negotiate a contract; Megatron needed Optimus to be at least somewhat focused, not go into stasis from overheating when he saw Megatron at his finest. Besides, an oil treatment smelled nicest the fresher it was, and Megatron intended to save his most irresistible tools for the day of.

The one downside of cleaning himself this thoroughly was that Megatron couldn't at all take a break from polishing his plating unless he wanted the polish to adhere unevenly. He had to forcibly prevent himself from thinking too hard about Optimus so that the urge to open his panels andA self-service wouldn't become too tempting. He didn't want to know what polish would do to his spike and valve, and he didn't intend to find out.

He did his back plating first, simply because it was the most annoying, difficult, and time-consuming to do, especially when he was alone. Megatron had considered asking Soundwave for help, but... His old friend had a tendency these days to give him a look whenever they were alone. Soundwave had always had the inexplicable ability to make his emotions quite apparent despite his entire face being covered, and any time Megatron approached him to ask a question or a favor these days, his old friend immediately took on an aura of melancholy disapproval.

Soundwave had probably been looking at Megatron's search history on the Decepticon network. Megatron knew it's what he would have done if their situations were reversed. And if he were to ask Soundwave for assistance on this, well... there was no need to subject his old friend to yet another intimate detail of Megatron's personal life.

So instead, Megatron had to install a huge, door-sized panel with an artificial sponge embedded in it, dampen it with polish, and then rub his back against it like Ravage trying to dislodge a pebble from his back. The things he had to do in order to succeed... His main consolation was that if Optimus had been flustered by seeing Megatron on a normal day in the office, he would probably be speechless for at least a few seconds when he saw Megatron freshly polished.

  
  
  


The next morning dawned with perfect weather for the occasion: sunny, with nothing but non-threatening wisps of clouds that puffed into nothing when Megatron flew through them. He was too restless to wait until the appointed time, so he occupied himself by doing stunt flying high enough in the sky to avoid a citation for dangerous flying or disrupting traffic.

If he weren't in alt-mode, Megatron would have rolled his optics at the thought.

Time scraped by like a glacier as Megatron engaged in more and more elaborate stunts. By the time Optimus finally commed him, Megatron immediately shot back down to Cybertron's surface before he even read the message.

[I know it's an hour early, but I'm here already.]

At least Optimus was clearly just as eager. Megatron banked, coming in at a wide angle so that he cut below air traffic in order to land in the huge field that was reserved for flight mechs to take off and land without disrupting the streets. Another trifling annoyance of peacetime life, but unfortunately a practical one.

Megatron's finely-tuned sensors made out Optimus' red and blue from a mile away. He made sure to come to a complete stop before transforming and landing, so as to not create a cloud of dust that would sully his plating... or Optimus', for that matter.

As Optimus immediately perked up and began to stride up to him, Megatron saw that his paint was so fresh that it made everything around him look brighter and cleaner, like he was glowing. The sunlight winked off of silver smokestacks, and Megatron could practically see his own reflection in Optimus' mask.

He watched Optimus look him up and down, blink his optics a few times, then keep looking at him. Megatron resisted the urge to preen.

"We should get out of the way so that other people can land," Optimus said awkwardly.

Megatron grumbled. Still, this date was supposed to be low-profile, and staring at each other in the middle of a high-traffic landing field was the opposite. He took Optimus gently by the elbow and led them away in the direction of the garden they had finally agreed upon a few days ago. The metal of Optimus' arm was smooth under Megatron's fingertips. He stroked over it absently with his thumb as they walked.

Optimus twitched, and on reflex Megatron let go of him.

They walked on in silence. Megatron surveyed the other mechs driving by or walking between buildings and saw that he and Optimus weren't attracting a terrible amount of attention, considering who they were. A few people cast second glances as the pair of them walked by, and on one occasion a distant mech even saluted in their direction, but no one approached.

A ping came to Megatron's HUD. Opening it, he saw the text-only message from Optimus. [You look very nice.]

The corner of his mouth twitched. He kept his helm forward as he replied, "Don't have the bearings to tell me out loud?"

"I do." [But we did agree to be discrete, did we not?] A pause, then the follow-up message: [All of the things I have in mind are for your audials only.]

_ Mine. _ Megatron clenched his fingers briefly, then relaxed. All in due time... [You look delectable.]

Out of the corner of his optic, Megatron saw Optimus' own optics go bright with embarrassment. He allowed himself a tiny smile as they continued walking.

  
  
  


Megatron had never particularly been interested in enjoying nature for aesthetic purposes, but he could admit that the park was expertly crafted. A row of small metal plaques near the park entrance had the names of the landscapers inscribed on them, as well as the methods for how the park was created and maintained. The pathways were framed by basalt tiers that created patches of shade at intervals, and some of them were low enough to the ground to serve as benches and tables for mechs of all sizes, from mini-bots to even mechs of his and Optimus' stature. Thankfully, nearly all of them were unoccupied.

Optimus led the way for the most part. He would touch Megatron lightly on the arm or wrist and point down which pathway he wanted to follow, and whenever he stopped to look at an arrangement of crystal flowers or a wire sculpture with tinkling bells hanging off of the branches, Megatron waited as well.

It was rather nice, more so than Megatron had expected. The garden was mostly empty, so the two of them could wander as they wished without being disturbed. The lack of anything to physically do had Megatron somewhat antsy, however.  _ Next time, I might try bringing something. A book, maybe. Could even try writing something. _

He did have one thing to occupy himself at the moment, though.

Optimus stopped in front of a crystal fountain to admire it with his hands behind his back. The longer Megatron stared at his profile, the more he noticed how Optimus' stillness wasn't just from looking at the scenery; he seemed genuinely peaceful, just taking in the moment instead of thinking about anything in particular.

Optimus finally turned and met Megatron's stare. "I realized something just now. My suggestion for a date is very poor if I spend the entire occasion not talking to you."

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Megatron replied. "And that is also an important part of the occasion."

"But I'm in your company. If I wanted to walk and say nothing, I should save it for my own free time rather than time set aside for us."

Feeling...something, Megatron reset his vocalizer and said, "I would prefer being silent with you rather than without you."

Optimus stared. Megatron stared back, then eventually cleared the silence with a dry remark. "If I ask you to talk, you had better not make it work-related."

That broke Optimus out of his trance. "Worrying about my health, Megatron?"

A little defiantly, he said, "Maybe I simply want your full attention."

"You have it." Optimus moved away from the fountain, and Megatron followed at his side as they went down a different path. "That wasn't about my conscience, or whatever you like to tease me about. I really would rather talk to you while we have time to ourselves."

Megatron's shoulder bumped against Optimus'. He adjusted himself to give the other mech more personal space. For all Optimus' talk of speaking, he didn't initiate another conversation after that. Megatron supposed he couldn't fault him for that;  _ he  _ didn't really know what to talk about either. This date was so mundane that it was completely out of the realm of Megatron's experiences. It wasn't bad, just...unusual. 

"Optimus," he said, waiting until his companion turned his helm to look at him. "You lived in Iacon before the war. Did it have parks like this back then, too?"

"Yes," Optimus answered after a moment of consideration. "I didn't go to any of them recreationally, though."

_ So you were forged with that self-sacrificing, overworking martyr complex in your programming,  _ Megatron thought fondly. He kept it to himself. Today was not a day for sparring, even verbally.

Optimus cleared his vocalizer. "And you…? I'm aware that miners didn't get that much off-shift time, but what did you like to do when you weren't working?"

"I wrote. Sometimes I read, when I could get my hands on a data file through the black market." Megatron quirked his helm with a sideways grin. "But those were both for the purpose of educating myself, and then for sewing anti-functionalist rhetoric into the populace. So... not applicable to the general definition of recreation."

Optimus nodded silently. Megatron studied the nearest stone formation.

"Do you still like to read and write?"

Megatron turned back towards Optimus and raised an optic ridge. "Why do you ask?"

"Because," Optimus said haltingly, "If you want to go on a date again, we could go to the archives and check out some files so that we could read something together."

They both stopped walking. Optimus' optics looked so fragile; Megatron realized that this was an offer that went beyond a once-off frag, or even a long-term arrangement. Optimus wanted to just spend time with him for its own sake, just the two of them, with no ulterior motives.

Optimus' optics brightened slightly at whatever he was seeing in Megatron's expression. "It was just an idea I had. Since I got to pick today's activity, you could pick the next... Anyways, you don't have to answer--"

"I'll think about it," Megatron answered, a little hoarsely.

Optimus looked away from him after that, which suited Megatron fine, because he also needed the silence to collect his thoughts. 

  
  
  


Optimus glowed with warmth from his spark to the tips of his fingers and pedes. Megatron had said he would consider another date. Yes, the keyword there was that he would  _ consider _ it, but Optimus felt inexplicably certain. Megatron had already said yes to a date when the initial goal had probably just been to frag Optimus... and even when the relationship between them had been nothing but violence, Megatron had always liked to say that he knew Optimus better than anyone else, so maybe, just maybe, Megatron already saw something appealing in Optimus. Appealing enough to consider a long-term relationship? He would just have to see.

"Slow down, you're walking ahead of me," Megatron said, the thud of his pedes speeding up until he was once again walking next to Optimus. Then he smirked slyly and said, "Maybe I should be flattered. Are you just eager to be getting to the  _ negotiations?" _

"No. I mean, yes, I am. Wait..." Optimus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was just thinking."

"About?" Megatron only looked a little insufferable as he asked the question.

Optimus huffed and sent a comm. [Do you even need to ask? I was thinking about you.]

The light in Megatron's optics flickered just barely, as sure a sign of him being off-balance as if he had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "You could get a lot more for yourself than just  _ thoughts _ if you put your mind to it."

"I'm sure I will."

Optimus was starting to wish they had arranged to negotiate the contract somewhere private like one of their own homes, because at least there they would have been able to speak everything out loud instead of hushing themselves in comms. More than that, he was starting to have to fight the urge to reach out and take Megatron's hand, or just...touch him.

Maybe it was for the best that they were in public. If they were in private, there would be no other barrier between Optimus and the slightly terrifying question of how Megatron would respond if he actually touched him.

He felt the burning touch of Megatron's gaze on his face again. Megatron could probably tell the general direction of his thoughts. Optimus waited for the inevitable flirtatious response, but when he checked out of the corner of his optic, Megatron was just looking forward with a neutral expression on his face.

The bar Megatron picked out for them was a hole-in-the-wall style establishment, almost literally so; the door was light and fragile, and low enough that both Megatron and Optimus had to duck to get through. To Optimus' relief, the ceiling on the inside was tall enough to comfortably accommodate both of them, and at a sweeping glance, he saw an entire wall of the establishment dedicated to booths large enough for both of them. It was around midday, so a good half of the tables were occupied with mechs taking their lunchtime energon. They didn't even look away from their conversations when Megatron and Optimus entered. The serene blue lighting was just bright enough to be comfortable, but low enough to create the impression that it was nighttime rather than the height of the day cycle.

Megatron led the way across the floor much like he did that morning at the landing field-- touching Optimus on the arm in that casual yet careful way as he led him through the least crowded areas until they settled in a corner booth. Optimus took the side facing away from the door as a silent gesture of courtesy to Megatron, who sat opposite him.

They looked at the menu in silence, and when a server approached them a couple minutes later, gave their orders with equal casualness. Optimus was fascinated to watch Megatron as he ordered his drink; the usual air of intimidation and superiority was completely absent, and his tone of voice was almost mild as he finished his order and then nodded to the server in thanks.

Once the server bustled away, Megatron looked directly at Optimus and said, "So, shall we begin?" His hand went below the surface of the table and emerged with a datapad.

Optimus nodded mutely and withdrew his own datapad from subspace. "Let me check for mistakes one last time before we start." He was almost surprised at how easy it felt, though he couldn't linger too long on the concept of discussing interfacing in public before he had to terminate the process. This contract negotiation wasn't some sort of indecent public display; they were just two mechs discretely discussing personal business, making sure everything between them was consensual. They weren't about to loudly discuss their preferences so everyone could hear. This was fine, just fine.

Their drinks arrived just as Optimus finished going over his list, and he thanked the server at the same time Megatron did.

Optimus slid open his mask and, like he wasn't concerned about anything at all, took a small sip. The lighting of the diner didn't really show much detail, but he hoped the effort he had spent buffing out some of the more obvious scratches and abrasions on his face still paid off. He hadn't really cared about maintaining his face for anything but practical and medical concerns-- why bother when he preferred to keep it covered anyways?-- but now he probably just looked sloppy, especially in comparison to Megatron. 

Sure enough, Megatron was still looking at his face when Optimus lowered the glass. He held his own glass, still untouched, and idly swirled it around. The little flakes of metal flavoring sparkled in the light.

"Here," Optimus said suddenly, and extended his data pad towards Megatron face-down. 

Megatron's optics brightened, and he took the offered edge. Then he frowned when Optimus didn't let go and tugged it lightly.

"I..." Optimus trailed off, not even knowing where to begin. "Just don't..."

A heavy pede bumped against his underneath the table. Optimus started.

"Just trust me," Megatron said softly. And he slid his own data pad across the table. It landed against Optimus' glass with a light  _ tink. _

Optimus vented out, and did. He let go of the datapad and took Megatron's. Even as Megatron immediately flipped Optimus' over, optics devouring the marks he had made, he didn't move his pede away from Optimus'.

Optimus couldn't hold back a smile, and he slid his pede even closer around and bumped him back. He looked down at Megatron's datapad before he could see his companion's reaction.

And...

...They were almost completely compatible, just like they always had been in everything else. Optimus was only looking at the kink checklist, and of course their tastes weren't identical in every way, but there were most definitely enough commonalities between Megatron's list and his own.

Some of the rows had Megatron's notes in the margins. Strange, now that he thought about it, that this was the first time Optimus had seen Megatron's handwriting... at least not since the very first day they met. He turned away from those thoughts and focused on what Megatron wrote, eager for any scrap of knowledge he could get about the other's thoughts and preferences.

The first annotation was in the early rows with more basic acts _. "Licking: Receiving, yes. Giving, yes. Just make sure you're clean beforehand." _

Optimus quickly took another drink to stifle a laugh. He skimmed the page, not even paying much attention to the check marks, until he stopped on another random annotation.  _ "Food Play: Maybe. Sounds erotic in theory, probably messy in practice." _

_ What a shame...I wouldn't have minded trying that out.  _ Optimus laughed quietly to himself.

Megatron bumped his pede again. Optimus looked up to see that he was on the receiving end of a raised optic ridge.

"It's nothing," Optimus said. "I just had a funny thought, is all."

Yes, he was starting to get a little hot under his plating from embarrassment and lust, but it honestly wasn't as overwhelming as he had expected. All of the more hardcore or confusing kinks were marked as  _ "No" _ or  _ "No/Maybe: Only if you're interested," _ and the more daring ones like hardlining or sparkplay were entirely off-limits.

Speaking of....  _ "Hard Limits: Immobilization, any degree of sensory deprivation, gladiator/arena roleplaying, rape roleplaying, any comments (especially degradation) related to function, the Decepticon cause, or the war."  _ Those were all to be expected. Hell, Optimus himself had put a hard limit similar to the last one on his own list.

It was, in a way, more liberating than it was anxiety-inducing. Optimus knew what Megatron did and didn't want, so now he didn't have to worry about accidentally saying or doing something wrong. There wasn't anything Megatron wanted to do to him that he wasn't willing to at least try, and vice versa. Megatron's words rang in his memory:  _ "I would make sure you enjoyed it."  _ He had meant it, he really did-- of course he did.

Even if Optimus was about to be baring parts of him he'd never let anyone else see, it was going to be okay, because it was with Megatron, and he was trustworthy for this.

Damn, he wanted to hold Megatron's hand so badly right now. They probably wouldn't be able to reach from underneath the table, though; it wasn't high enough for them to fit their arms underneath. He settled with their new, unspoken method of communication and tapped Megatron's pede again.

"Well, what do you think?" Optimus prompted. "It looks like we're in agreement about hard limitations, to start with. Nothing you put down there is something I intended to do in the first place, so we don't have to worry about those."

Megatron looked up from the datapad and  _ stared _ at him. His hands were somewhere underneath the table, and his arms were rigid like he was struggling to hold himself back. Just looking at them, Optimus' combat processor almost registered Megatron's posture as "about to attack" before Megatron rasped out, "How soon can you arrange a few days off?"

Optimus tilted his helm. "Shouldn't we talk about the details first?"

"The details can wait." From his posture, Megatron was definitely gripping his knee guards underneath the table. His face was still and cool, but his optics burned. [How soon can I have you? How soon can I make every single little fantasy in this list come true?]

Optimus spat static. His grip on his glass trembled. "I...can probably take a few days of leave starting two days after tomorrow?"

"Make it as soon as possible," Megatron gritted out. [I'm done waiting. I  _ will _ have you at the first opportunity.]

If Optimus took a drink right now, he would certainly choke on it, so he didn't have an option to hide his face besides literally activating his mask again and covering his face with his hands. Primus. Megatron wanted him-- really wanted him, so much so that he had almost lost his composure in the middle of a public diner. Optimus’ interface subsystem stirred to life despite his best efforts.

Megatron's pede stroked the inside of Optimus'. "We can get to the details whenever you're ready," he laughed. There was a short series of whirrs as the mechanisms in his arms relaxed.

Slagger. Always making Optimus flustered at the worst possible time. Optimus opened his mask again and took a long pull of his drink. He had to offline his optics a few times from the effort it took to not make a face; he was sure he looked ridiculous. But what else was he supposed to do when Megatron just commed him things like that? And while he was sitting directly across from Optimus, staring at him like he was trying to pin him down from the force of his gaze alone?

"Okay," Optimus managed at last. His voice buzzed slightly on the edges. "Let's talk details."

"First things first: third section, first four items." Megatron smirked. Optimus' optic twitched. That was the section on restraints, gags, blindfolds, and variations on such. "You wrote that you were fine with most of them, so which ones do you want to have used on you? Or would you enjoy... all of them?"

Optimus lowered the volume of his voice as much as he could while still being sure Megatron could hear him. "No blindfolds, no collars. Those are too much for the first session."

"Mmm," Megatron hummed, not looking any less interested or enthusiastic. "So just restraints, then, but as you put in the margins, not for the entire session, so that you can touch me most of the time?"

Optimus nodded.

"And how would you feel about a gag?"

That smug look on Megatron's face was starting to get irritating. Optimus decided to do some disarming of his own. [I think you could find better uses for my mouth,] he commed.

The corner of Megatron's mouth twitched, and his jaw tensed for a moment. "Careful, Optimus. If you're going to give me such a concession, I won't feel guilty about taking full advantage of it."

"That's the idea." Optimus aggressively smiled back at Megatron and took a drink, licking his lips once he set the glass back down.

Megatron's optics lowered to his mouth. "Deal."

"Though I do want to tell you now that I don't want any pain, even moderately. Dents and scrapes are fine, but only superficially."

"I saw that in your hard limits," Megatron agreed. He paused thoughtfully, still swirling his drink which was mostly untouched. "I'm curious how that fits into the scenarios you wrote down for me, though." And he turned Optimus' datapad around to tap at a particular item on the screen:

_ "Struggling against being held down, then fragged to the point of crying and begging to get a break, but not being given the respite." _

"Ah. Well..." His valve was starting to ache and grow hot underneath his panels. "In my mind...there's a difference between being in pain...versus being overwhelmed past your usual limits-- the ones that you need someone else to break for you because you can't do it yourself."

The table vibrated slightly underneath Optimus' forearm. It took him a moment to process that the vibration was coming from Megatron-- he had just growled his engine, and it was only through a combination of the diner's white noise and his frame's natural efficiency that the sound was almost completely inaudible.

"I can do that," Megatron breathed. His fingers tightened on the datapad. "Don't fear... I can certainly do that."

Optimus wished that he could disable his array for the rest of this date. He was going to have to suffer through having lubricant sealed behind his modesty panels for an hour or more before he could go home and self-service the problem away. As it was, he already felt like everything below the surface of his plating was made of wet clay instead of metal.

"How much struggle do you want to put up?" Megatron asked mock-casually. He had his chin rested on the back of one hand, but the effect was marred by the intensity of his optics and the hoarseness of his voice.

"I don't know. It depends on what happens when we actually try."  _ Though I don't think I could last very long against you regardless, _ Optimus added silently. He didn't want a fight against Megatron so much as he wanted a demonstration of dominance: something to break through Optimus' fine-tuned instincts for combat and control and tell him  _ just give in, don't fight against it, let him do whatever he wants. _

After a moment of daydreaming, Optimus realized that the depth of his request was more complicated, so he tugged the datapad out of Megatron's grip and wrote down what he had just thought about, then turned it back to Megatron.

Megatron's optics flicked over the annotation and then widened. He looked back up at Optimus and put his hand over his on the edge of the datapad, squeezing down almost hard enough to hurt. His voice came out low and surprisingly even, a stark contrast to his body language. "And you really want this? You're truly not afraid of being at my mercy, even if I literally have you bound at my feet?"

Optimus offered Megatron a slow smile. "You said you were going to make it enjoyable. I trust your word on that." He eased his hand out just enough from Megatron's grip to run his thumb over the side of his hand. "And I trust you in other ways, too."

Megatron looked at him solemnly for several long seconds. Finally, he turned Optimus' hand over and took it in a solid handshake. "Let's finish arranging this."

Optimus fought the urge to trill from the warmth of Megatron’s hand in his. He may or may not have dragged out the contact for as long as possible by sliding his fingertips over Megatron's as they pulled away from each other, but Megatron didn't seem to mind, besides giving him a slightly longer than normal look that said he noticed. Optimus still couldn’t help but grin as they returned to their datapads.

Going over the rest of their lists went by fairly quickly; they mutually decided that it was best to keep the session simple, with not too many items besides a few toys and simple handcuffs for the restraints being used. Optimus consented to being edged and denied, and Megatron agreed to start the session more on the slow and easy side before escalating into truly rough fragging.

"One last thing," Optimus asked as they were putting their datapads back into subspace. He felt a little more bold now that they had gotten past the long, formal details of the contract.

Megatron offlined his optics and vented evenly. "Yes?" He asked after a moment, hands curled on top of the table.

"How... how big--" There was no way he was going to ask the question aloud. Most of the other patrons were gone; it was too quiet. He sent the rest of the message to Megatron in a comm.

Megatron's optics flared online, and then he laughed out loud, full and hearty. Optimus instinctively looked around in disbelief, trying to find confirmation that he wasn't hallucinating. The bartender was definitely staring at both of them from where they were cleaning a dispenser in the corner.

A tap on his shoulder dragged Optimus' attention back to Megatron.

Megatron stood, walked around the booth so that he was facing Optimus and had his back to the rest of the diner, and then he flashed his biolights in a showy, distinctively lewd pattern. Then he commed Optimus the dimensions of his spike.

Optimus pressed his legs together underneath the table and used all of his willpower to keep the panel locks on his valve panel securely shut. "That...is manageable," he said, strained.

"There's no need for bravado," Megatron teased. "You can tell me if you've changed your mind about any of the details of our contract."

"I don't have any bravado," Optimus retorted. "I know my limits better than you do. I can take that. Easily."

"Oh?" Megatron leaned down. Optimus felt his lips brush against one of his finials before whispering into his audial, "But you know, I'm going to be  _ thoroughly _ exploring your limits soon enough."

Optimus whimpered.

Megatron chuckled and flicked his tongue lightly over the metal. "I had better be seeing you soon," he purred, and then left.

Optimus waited until he heard the door open and shut. Then he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. He was screwed. Beautifully, terrifyingly, deliciously screwed.

  
  
  


Insufferable Prime. Delectable, flustered, oblivious Prime who surely couldn't be that clueless as to the effect he had on Megatron. Optimus Prime, who wanted Megatron to pin him down and ravish him past his limits, who had admitted as much dozens of times over during their discussion.

Megatron pumped his spike furiously. Optimus-fucking-Prime who sat across the table from him and smiled at him so sweetly, like every other word he said hadn't nearly driven Megatron insane from lust and had his spike pressing against the back of his panel for nearly the entire conversation. Optimus who was shy and flustered one moment, then casually offering free use of his mouth or asking Megatron how big his spike was in the next. 

He was going to wring every drop of pleasure out of Optimus' frame that he could. He was going to find out what his transfluid looked like dripping from that valve. He was going to see what Optimus' expression looked like when he was begging and crying to overload.

_ Mine, mine, you're going to be mine! _

Megatron threw his helm back and overloaded. Again. He hadn't been counting. And he still wasn't satiated. Nothing, nothing was ever going to satisfy him again besides Optimus' face and frame and voice and touch. Megatron was almost angry at himself for having bought so many toys: what was the use of so many cheap recreations when he couldn't have the real thing?

_ You could use them on him, to begin with, _ his tactical processor helpfully said, and offered a dozen possible scenarios with just a false spike alone.

Yes, that was what he needed to do right now. Plan.

An hour later, Megatron was riding a false spike magnetized to the floor. He had one hand flat on the floor for leverage, and in the other he held a valve toy as he licked at the node and thrust his tongue inside the entrance. He wanted  _ Optimus, _ not an inert and unresponsive object, but this had to be good enough, for now. All the better to make the actual event enjoyable.

He hadn't gotten to see Optimus' valve the last time they fragged in Megatron's office, and oh, what a shame that was... but by the same token, Optimus hadn't seen his spike either, so the anticipation would no doubt be as high for him.

Megatron shuddered and his valve tightened around the false spike, remembering how Optimus had whimpered at the filthy suggestion Megatron had whispered into his audial, so obviously eager but unable to do anything about it, just like Megatron hadn't. He himself had had to leave as immediately as possible so that he could get home and find some relief-- as he was doing right now.

Megatron sucked on the node of the toy. Optimus was probably self-servicing in his room right now thinking about Megatron's spike, fitting his fingers one by one into his tight little valve and working himself open. "I can take it easily"? Megatron was going to test out that claim, of course. He had enough false spikes of varying sizes that he could work Optimus open slowly. Maybe he would make Optimus beg for him to use a bigger spike until he finally found the size that was at Optimus' limits.

After all, that was what he wanted Megatron to do, wasn't it? He wanted Megatron to break down his walls one by one, strip away his armor of shame until there was nothing left but raw desire.

Megatron had to stop eating out the valve toy in favor of using both arms as leverage to ride the spike even harder.

Because Optimus wanted him, and he had never asked anyone for this kind of encounter before. Megatron was sure of it. He had always been the one who knew Optimus best. He was the one who got to see the secret sides of Optimus. He was the one who was going to get to see the real Optimus: free, trusting, surrendering himself to Megatron's control-- no more foolish thoughts about control and restrained. Just him.

"Optimus," he hissed, breaking off into a loud moan as he overloaded.

Megatron just knelt, panting for several minutes afterwards. The most intense of the charge was gone, but he could still feel it tingling all over his body.

He brought the valve toy back to his mouth, sucking and licking and kissing it until the entire thing was wet with oral lubricant.

Then he lifted himself off of the false spike and opened his own spike panel instead. After all, Optimus had written on his list that he wanted to use his valve most of the time. Megatron was going to enjoy reacquainting himself with Optimus' spike, but it was only prudent for him to practice for the main event, as it were.

He shuddered as he slid into the toy. A fresh surge of charge crackled up his spinal strut and he growled. He had used this toy before, but knowing that Optimus wanted his spike so badly...it was like an entirely new level of sensation, even though he knew Optimus' actual valve would no doubt be even slicker and hotter around his spike.

Megatron couldn't actually fit his entire length inside of the toy, but it had just the right feeling of tightness around him. He held it steady as he thrust slowly inside, finding the right angle for the perfect slide back and forth. Then he moved faster, enough so that the toy started making slick noises as he moved in and out.

"Optimus," Megatron murmured again. His optics were offline entirely as he focused on the image in his mind's eye.

Optimus, wrists shackled to Megatron's bed, turning his face away from Megatron shyly-- the only way he could resist once Megatron spread his legs open to keep that lovely valve exposed, which was dripping lubricant already. But he would start to whimper (just like he had in the diner) once Megatron started rubbing his spike against the folds of his valve, and Megatron wouldn't give it to him until he whined out,  _ "Please, Megatron, I want your spike." _

And then he would do as Optimus asked and give him his spike-- and give it to him, and give it to him, until Optimus was overloading and even beyond that, making him scream with pleasure.

Megatron thought of what Optimus' expression had looked like whenever he overloaded inside of him a month ago: so open and full of ecstasy, staring at Megatron's face and over his body. Lips parted in awe and appreciation as he leaned down for another messy kiss.

He wanted to see that again, only with Optimus being the one losing control instead, writhing so sweetly underneath him as he pounded him into the berth. He wanted, he wanted--

Megatron almost didn't hear the cracking sound between his fingers, his overload was that strong. He blinked away the haze and shook his helm, staring down to see that the other end of the valve toy had completely popped off. The plasteel was cracked between Megatron's fingers, only held together by the mesh inside of the toy itself. He hadn't even noticed, he was so preoccupied with his own overload.

Megatron chuckled wryly as he pulled the ruined toy off of his spike. As he thought, a toy truly was a cheap imitation of the real thing… or perhaps he was simply that powerful. It was most likely a combination of both. Optimus, however, was far more durable than that.

Megatron flicked transfluid and lubricant off of his hand, then stood on shaking legs to gather cleaning supplies for his mess. Still... this was a reminder to be careful with Optimus. He couldn't lose his control, no matter how skilled the Prime had become in getting under his plating over the past month.

After he cleaned everything up, Megatron reclined on his berth and dozed, processor full of memories of vibrant blue-and-red plating, shy smiles under dim light, and a warm hand beneath his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will be posted on December 3rd. It's over 14,000 words and counting, so make sure your schedule is free before you read!


	3. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!
> 
> I simply couldn't resist posting early.
> 
> This is the longest sex scene (and chapter in general) that I've written, totaling 14,624 words. This chapter was a long time in the making and took a lot of editing, so if you could leave a comment and/or share with your friends, I would really appreciate it.
> 
> Mild disclaimer: I've never done BDSM in my life and only know through research, but I did do my best to include important stuff like checking in, having a safe word, all that stuff... I'm sure it doesn't need to be said, but don't take this as an authoritative guide or anything. :P

Optimus was indeed able to get a few days off starting the very next day, in fact. He was very pleased with how easy it was to get the request through-- and trying not to start humming with excitement-- at least until he bumped into Starscream on his way to his office.

"Heard you were going on a short vacation, Prime."

"I-- yes, how did you know?"

"Oh, you know. Word spreads fast when something unusual happens." Starscream made as if to walk by Optimus without another comment, then stopped and whispered loudly, "Sexual tension is terrible for the workplace atmosphere, you know. Take Megatron home and frag his lights out already."

"What?!" Optimus yelped, but it came out garbled and glitched, and by the time he reset his vocalizer and whirled on his heel, Starscream was already flouncing past the corner, and Optimus saw nothing but a pair of colorful wings before he disappeared.

His vocalizer wouldn't stop fizzing no matter how hard he tried to gather his composure again. Frankly, Optimus didn't want to stop; it was the only way he felt like he could vent his mortification without spontaneously combusting in the middle of the hallway. He was definitely wafting steam from his smokestacks everywhere he walked.

He lurched to a stop when he reached his office. There was a little bag sitting innocuously next to the doorway, plain and with a little bit of foil covering the top so Optimus couldn't see what was inside.

Optimus gingerly picked it up; it was small enough to fit under one arm, and as he shook it lightly, something within tilted and made a sloshing noise.

He slapped the security panel of his door and went inside so fast he bumped his shoulder on the way, barely remembering to close the door behind him before he dropped the bag onto his desk and peeled away the foil cover with shaking hands.

There were two labeled canisters inside: one marked as flavored energon, the other as coolant. When Optimus took one out, he saw a note that had fallen to the bottom of the bag. He fished it out and unfolded it.

_ "You'll need the energy. Comm me when you get off work." _

Optimus couldn't hold back a trill of excitement. He covered his mask with both hands and walked to the end of the room to lean his helm against the wall. He felt like a newspark again, excited over the smallest, most insignificant of things. Megatron wasn't insignificant, though-- he was the opposite of insignificant in Optimus' spark.

He sighed dreamily and smiled.  _ He must really like me, _ Optimus thought as he bounced back behind his desk and sat down. Oh, he could hardly bear to wait an entire shift to see Megatron again.

  
  
  


Optimus hastened the end of his shift by working in a frenzy that had rarely been matched in the rest of his functioning. Even better, he was ahead of his work now by exactly the number of days he had set aside to spend time with Megatron, so he didn't even have to feel guilty over taking time off for a simple... a simple... whatever it was that they had between them.

He thought about it as he powered off his console and made sure everything in his office was in order. This arrangement they had between them-- the date, the contract-- was far too much for a casual fling. There was too much history between them for this to be a casual fling. But they hadn't yet spoken of it aloud yet... There had been little hints here and there: a few bold suggestions that had been met with no comment by Megatron; the way several items on their contract had been casually referred by both of them as "something to try another time"; even the energon and coolant Megatron had left for him that morning.

And of course, there had been the intimate moments, the ones that made Optimus absolutely certain that Megatron felt the same way as he did. He had stared at Optimus a few times in the park when he thought Optimus wasn't looking at him. He had looked so absorbed, like he was enjoying Optimus’ enjoyment of the date-- not like he was impatient to get to the details of the frag so he could have what he wanted already. And he had touched Optimus so casually to lead him around the city; Megatron never touched anyone unless there was a practical reason for it.

And finally, more than anything else, even lust, Megatron had been so attentive to Optimus' needs and desires during the negotiation. 

_ "Trust me." _

_ "You're truly not afraid of being at my mercy?" _

No, this was more than a game. The signs were there, even if Megatron-- and he himself-- hadn't explicitly said anything about it. Optimus wouldn't have entrusted himself so completely to Megatron otherwise. And he wasn't actually afraid of Megatron at all. Only... only that he might be a disappointment, compared to how obviously Megatron wanted him.

His spark thumped in his chest as he sent Megatron a text. [I'm off work. I just need to get ready for a short while, and then I'll drive over.]

Megatron's response came moments later. [Did you enjoy the gift I left for you?]

[Yes.] Optimus smiled behind his mask. He hesitated for a moment on how to word the next message, but pushed through the uncertainty. [Thank you. I was-- and am-- grateful for your care towards me.]

Megatron didn't respond for a while. Optimus was out of the door and driving towards his apartment when his once-enemy finally responded.

[It was nothing. I look forward to seeing you soon.]

Optimus paid studious attention to the road. He knew he couldn't drive and think of how to respond at the same time. Not that he  _ needed _ to respond, but he wanted to say something back to Megatron-- something witty, or eloquent, or just genuine, so that Megatron could know he was feeling just as excited and happy over this.

Optimus eventually came to his building and transformed, walking up the stairs to his somewhat shabby little suite. He had the salary to live somewhere a little nicer, but he couldn't find it in himself to spend money on anything more complex than a quiet neighborhood with good utilities and enough space to spin his wheels.

Once inside, Optimus immediately headed to the wash racks and scrubbed himself from helm to pedes with a brand-new sponge, even getting as deep into his back seams as he could with a long-handled brush. Halfway through, he realized that he was probably scraping up the polish he had gotten the day before yesterday for his and Megatron's date. He spent a solid minute frozen in indecision before realizing that there was nothing he could do about it; he didn't have a big enough mirror to check if it had been mussed up, and trying to apply fresh polish immediately before interfacing was a disaster waiting to happen. He was just going to have to show up to Megatron's home as he was.

He spent another several minutes at the mirror, tilting his face this way and that to make sure there wasn't some blemish or scrape he had missed. Well, from cleaning, anyways-- some of the scars on his face had been there for more than a million years.

_ What is this? _ A part of him asked incredulously as he avoided his own optics in the mirror.  _ Megatron has seen you at your worst, in far worse circumstances than this. What makes you think he'll see you any differently because of a few scrapes on your chassis? _

_ This is different, _ Optimus thought, turning from the mirror and turning on the air dryer. Yes, Megatron had seen him at his worst, and vice versa. But this wasn't war or a battlefield; this was something intimate, personal-- something romantic, even. _ I don't want to frag this up. _ Megatron was already indulging so many of Optimus' deepest, latent desires. The least Optimus could do was try to make himself equally as appealing.

He was finally as presentable as he was going to be. Optimus turned off all of the lights and locked the door behind him decisively. He refused to go back inside to fuss over some last-minute anxiety. It was time to go.

  
  
  


Optimus didn't know what to think about as he walked the final steps to Megatron's door, so he didn't think about anything. He just knocked at the door and stood with his pedes set firmly.

He had just enough time to be surprised at how long it was taking for Megatron to answer the door when it finally slid open. Optimus only processed a blur of dark and purple before he was dragged through the doorway and pinned to the wall by strong hands on his waist.

"Good evening," Megatron laughed, low and breathless. He pressed against Optimus from hip to chest, then brushed his lips over Optimus' mask. "Not even going show your face to say hello?"

Optimus blinked. Then he opened his mask and surged forwards, meeting Megatron's equally hungry mouth in an instant. His hands wandered indiscriminately over Megatron's body-- waist, aft, back, chest, shoulders-- Optimus didn't really register the sequence of movements, just the feeling of plating so glossy and smooth under his fingertips. The rich scent of oil fragrance filled his sensors as Megatron groped at every part of Optimus he could reach.

They both pulled away at the same time, Optimus' fans whirring and Megatron's much quieter cooling systems purring in unison. Optimus' lips were still parted from the lingering sensation of Megatron's lips. Megatron grinned at him with a sparkle in his optics.

Then Megatron dove down without warning and suckled at Optimus' neck cables. He moaned before he could stop himself. On instinct he pushed against Megatron's chest, trying to escape the mouth ravishing sensitive fuel lines, but Megatron didn't budge. He sucked harder at his neck, sliding up to a different spot that made Optimus arch against him.

"Mmm! Megatron!"

He bit Optimus' neck before finally releasing it. "Yes?" His voice was dark and husky. Satisfied.

"Right... Right now?"

Megatron straightened and looked Optimus in the optics. "Right now," he repeated. He grabbed Optimus by the waist and spun them around. "Yes?"

Optimus resisted for a moment, then followed. "Yes," he said.

Megatron dragged him to the berthroom. Neither of them could keep their hands or mouths off of each other. They only made it a few steps before Megatron leaned in to kiss Optimus again, moaning in contentment when Optimus answered with nibbles on his lips. When they moved again, eventually, it didn’t take long for another interruption.

In a fierce, half-blind dance, they kept bumping into the walls and then taking the opportunity to push close for another round of touches. Optimus got Megatron's back against the wall and licked at his lips until Megatron opened for him and their tongues entwined for a while; then they kept stumbling forward, and Optimus' back hit the other wall, and Megatron's hand immediately slid down to his aft and pulled their hips together. Megatron's spike panel was hot against his own, oh, and Optimus couldn't get his hips at the right angle to rub his valve panel against it when they were both standing--

The berthroom was dim enough that the furniture was little more than shapes around them. Optimus couldn't focus on anything besides Megatron, ebony and solid like he was carved out of the darkness itself. His purple etching threw out excited light that was outshone only by the blaze of his optics.

Optimus was already unsteady on his feet, so when Megatron pushed him and his knees hit the edge of the berth, he just fell pliantly on the soft covers. Megatron was on him in an instant, lacing their hands together and forcing Optimus' arms above his head, then leaning down and pinning one of Optimus' thighs open with his knee.

Optimus opened his valve panel without hesitation.

"So eager," Megatron chuckled. "I thought you were going to fight me harder than this."

"I can't fight you," Optimus confessed in a whisper. "I want you too much."

Megatron's optics widened. His mouth parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but instead he just snarled and took Optimus' mouth hard, demanding with his teeth and tongue. 

Optimus opened his legs wider and was rewarded with Megatron readjusting his position so that he could rub his spike panel against Optimus' valve. They both moaned into each other at the same time. Optimus broke away to whisper, "Please, Megatron, please!" He was so lubricated already that he could hear his valve making wet noises with every grind of Megatron's hips. "Please spike me!"

The entranced expression on Megatron's face broke into a wicked grin. "No," he taunted, letting go of Optimus' hands in favor of pinning his thighs open instead.

"But I need-- I need!" Optimus stretched his arms to grab at Megatron's shoulders, but he dodged easily.

"I know you do." Megatron looked down between Optimus' legs. "Lovely," he purred.

Then he let go of one of Optimus' thighs, reached down somewhere, and withdrew a spreader bar, brandishing it in one hand. "Now, then. I'm not going to be denied the sight of this pretty valve for the rest of this session, so you're going to be obedient and keep your legs open so I can put this on you."

"Oh," Optimus whimpered. His valve clenched, and a warm drip of lubricant slid down his aft. Only the force of Megatron's command kept him from doing more than twitching as Megatron fastened the bindings around his thighs. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he just kept them on either side of his helm, fingers flexing in anticipation and a little bit of disbelief. This was actually happening; he was flat on his back in Megatron's berth, spread open for him to enjoy at his leisure.

Megatron wasn't taking his time, but it still felt like an hour had passed before he finished fastening the bindings, giving them a little tug to make sure they were secure. "Very good," he said at last, straightening to look at Optimus up and down. "You really are desperate for me, aren't you? I almost can't believe you just offered yourself to me so easily."

Optimus squirmed and tried to press his thighs together to cover his valve. It didn't work, obviously; the straps only moved a little before they locked. So instead he just turned his face to the side and bit his lip.

"Don't be ashamed, Optimus," Megatron chuckled. He put his hands on Optimus' hips again and dragged him to the edge of the berth. "Don't you know by now that I want you just as badly? There were so many times this month I had to remind myself not to grab you, take you into a closet somewhere, and screw you until you couldn't walk." He reached out and ran his fingers down the lips of Optimus' valve, a slow, decadent slide across the soft mesh.

"But no-- I knew I had to wait to take you properly. I had to get you here so I could take my time..." Megatron slid off the berth and dropped to his knees. "Enjoy every inch of your frame..." He ducked his helm underneath the spreader bar. "And hear you cry out my name."

Optimus was floating in the bliss of Megatron's voice, so lost that the meaning of his words and the position he was moving into didn't register until Megatron's tongue licked over his valve from top to bottom, dipping in the creases to gather up every drop of lubricant.

Optimus made a soft noise of surprise and instinctively tried to press his thighs together. As intended, the spreader bar kept his legs open, and all Optimus could do was dig his fingers into the covers as Megatron parted the folds of mesh with his tongue and started licking at his anterior node.

At first his node simply basked in the gentle attention it was receiving. The pressure was soft and pleasant more than anything. Then Megatron changed the movement of his tongue, and after a few licks a low burn kindle in Optimus' array. He squirmed and panted.

Megatron didn't change that motion for a while. The rise to overload was slow and inexorable all the same, and soon Optimus was having a hard time containing his moans. Then Megatron sucked on his node, with just the right amount of pressure--

"Ah!" Optimus yelped, then immediately clapped one hand over his mouth. His face was burning hot, but still not as hot as his array, and he had to bite down on a finger to keep the next noise from coming out so loudly.

Megatron growled and pulled his mouth away. "Look at me," he rasped.

It was hard for Optimus to push himself up when he was shaking so badly, but he managed it. Then he almost collapsed again when he saw the look on Megatron's face.

His optics glowed fiercely in that intense, determined way that Optimus knew so well. The red light glistened on his lubricant-coated lips, which parted as he licked them slowly. He waited to speak until Optimus' optics had been locked on his own for several seconds, then said authoritatively, "Do not stifle yourself, Optimus. I want to hear every sound you make." He smiled with teeth as he added, "Don't make me put the cuffs on you already. You were so well-behaved earlier, I think you can keep it up without me forcing you."

Optimus turned his face away. "Okay," he whispered, and when Megatron dove back into his array, he shuddered and barely kept himself from falling back again. It was so hard to keep himself upright with his legs spread, hips on the edge of the berth, and arms shaking, but he managed so that he could keep seeing Megatron's face.

Megatron's attention was fully turned to his valve, optics half-dim in concentration. He was licking Optimus' node again like he was before, and the charge kindling in Optimus' frame kept rising higher. When Optimus made a small, wavering noise at the next lick, Megatron's optics brightened and he looked up. He seemed startled for an instant, then pleased, optics dilating.

Optimus jerked a little in his restraints when the comm came. [Do you like watching me, Optimus? Does it feel good?]

"Y-yes," he stuttered. He could imagine exactly the tone Megatron would use saying that aloud: silky, deep, and oh-so confident in his skills.

[Tell me more.] Megatron parted from his node, and the little button was glowing so intensely that golden light reflected off of the lubricant on his face. Then his tongue darted out and, not breaking optic contact, he licked slowly up and down the valve lips, toying with the smaller nodes lining the inside.

Optimus couldn't really think of what to say; he couldn't be as teasing as Megatron was with half of his processor washed out in charge. "Ah... it f-feels good..." Those slow licks kept his charge at a high simmer, but he wanted more. "Can you please go back to my node?"

Megatron smiled and did as Optimus asked. He sucked on his node again, but harder than before, and when he licked at it the angle was different but somehow just right--

Optimus' arms collapsed, and he fell back against the bed. "That," he gasped. "Just like that. Don't stop. Please, don't stop!" The thought of being denied his overload made him twitch in his bonds and arch up against Megatron's mouth. He knew he had agreed to it, but he wasn’t ready to lose this pleasure so soon. He had to make sure Megatron was pleased enough to give it to him... "I want it. Please. Close..."

Megatron moaned against his valve. His grip tightened on Optimus' thighs and he pulled away, panting furiously. Optimus barely had time to protest before Megatron surged back in and sucked even harder, licked more intently.

[I can't wait to be inside of you,] he commed. One finger slid inside Optimus’ valve easily. [Already so wet and loose for me. You want me to fuck you so badly, don't you?]

"Yes!" Optimus grabbed Megatron's helm and pressed him harder against his valve. He was starting to writhe, but he had to keep that wonderful mouth pressed against him. “Megatron, please!”

Even though Optimus wasn't looking at him any more, the whine of recalibrating gears and the crackle of charge told him that Megatron's entire body was shuddering in pleasure. His mouth and lips suckled relentlessly. [Fuck, I can't even keep my spike behind my panel any more. Say my name like that again.]

"Meg-- ah, Megatron!" Megatron added another finger and curled both inside of him, exploring for sensitive spots until he found the one that made Optimus jerk, then hitting it over and over. "I want-- to overload-- Mega, Megatron, please, let me!"

Another moan vibrated against Optimus' valve, and that was the sensation that pushed him over the edge into an overload so intense that Optimus couldn't see, hear, feel anything but the buzz of charge all over his body.

He felt the berth dip next to him, and a hand lay heavily on his face. "Up, Optimus. You aren't anywhere near done yet."

Optimus blinked his optics online and quivered when he saw Megatron's face directly above him. His optics were wild and his mouth opened in a harsh pant.

"On your knees," he ordered, and Optimus didn't have to wonder how he was supposed to do that, because Megatron grabbed him under his arms and dragged him off the berth and onto the floor. "Open your mouth."

Optimus did so. He didn't even have time to get a good look at Megatron's spike before Megatron pushed it into his mouth. It was-- it was so thick, better than Optimus' imagination even though he had known how big it would be. He immediately started sucking, savoring the spark of charge against his tongue as he licked the nodes on the underside of the shaft.

"You--" Megatron groaned and grabbed convulsively at the back of Optimus' helm. Optimus half expected him to start fragging his mouth relentlessly, but all he did was rock back and forth slowly, only pulling out a little before easing back in, stopping before he hit Optimus' throat. By the harshness of his grip, though, that amount of restraint was costing him dearly.

Optimus grabbed blindly and hit Megatron's knee guard. [You can go deeper, it's okay,] he commed. [Just move slowly, and I'll tell you when to stop.]

"Optimus," Megatron moaned. He immediately slid past the back of Optimus' tongue and slowly pressed down his throat.

_ So big, so big, _ his processor chanted, but he still took it without hesitation, tilting his helm so Megatron could get a better angle. His throat flexed around the intrusion but didn't choke.

High above him, Megatron moaned and jerked, pressing even deeper.

[Right there,] Optimus commed frantically, grabbing at Megatron's other thigh. He couldn't even take the entire spike.

Megatron stopped moving instantly. "Fuck, you're incredible." he said, strained. He shifted his grip so that he had one hand on either side of Optimus' helm. "Yes?"

The honest compliment made Optimus' spark throb. [Yes, yes, go on, use my mouth, I want you to overload too.] He stroked up and down Megatron's thighs for emphasis. His own thighs were still held open by the spreader bar-- and now they were starting to shake again from excitement-- so he had to hold onto Megatron just to keep himself upright.

Megatron didn't hesitate any longer. He pulled out of Optimus' mouth until just the tip was still inside, then pushed back in a long, smooth slide as far in as Optimus let him. His hands shook and clenched around Optimus' audials. Back out, in, and within seconds he found a rhythm, steadily fucking Optimus' mouth and moaning loudly, full-throated.

Optimus' valve clenched. He could feel the texture of Megatron's spike on his tongue, could vividly imagine how it would feel pressed inside of his valve, and it was all he could do to hold still and let Megatron use him. He moaned softly. He wanted to touch himself so badly.

"Again," Megatron groaned. He moved faster. "That."

Optimus moaned more loudly. It was easy to be vocal when it had this effect on Megatron. He looked up the next time Megatron pulled out, and-- yes, that, that perfect expression of rising ecstasy on his face, optics offline-- Optimus wanted that more than continuing to be shy.

He sucked Megatron's spike harder and moaned louder. [Overload, Megatron, overload, don't pull away!] 

"Oh, I will," Megatron snarled. "Such a good frag toy, on your knees letting me use your mouth. Wish I was overloading inside your valve instead of down your throat?"

Optimus raked his fingers down Megatron's thighs and moaned incoherently. He didn't have to answer; Megatron pushed as far down his throat as he could and overloaded. Optimus could feel the thick transfluid gushing down his throat, and he sucked as hard as he could at the twitching spike, trying to coax more out.

"Damn," Megatron rasped after a minute. His spike was still twitching a little as he eased out of Optimus' mouth. "Your mouth  _ is _ too good for a gag."

Optimus panted and rested his helm against Megatron's thigh, too overwhelmed to respond.

Megatron bent down, cupped his chin in one hand, and tilted his face up. His gaze roamed all over Optimus' face as if looking for something. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, Megatron smiled. There was still deviousness there, but he seemed far more relaxed now that he had finally overloaded. "There's a puddle underneath you right now," he informed Optimus conversationally.

"Mmh. Yes." Optimus could already feel another dribble of lubricant gathering in the slit of his valve.

Megatron hummed thoughtfully, stroking Optimus' cheek with his thumb. "You've done well so far. Very well." His mouth curved up. "Stay there while I get something."

It wasn't like he had much of a choice. Optimus rested against the side of the berth instead, focusing on the blast of his cooling fans. There was still more. He had to be ready. And he  _ was  _ ready. He had already experienced more pleasure than ever, but he could still take more...and give more.

He was caught up in wondering whether it would work to try asking Megatron to spike him again when a heavy presence knelt beside him. Two things happened at the same moment: Megatron caught his chin again and turned his face to look into his own, and then a thick, hard object slid into Optimus' valve.

"Yes," Megatron purred as Optimus gasped. "I decided that you were good enough that I would grant you a little bit of mercy." He slid the false spike deeper into Optimus' valve. Optimus didn't know what his face was doing, but he couldn't stop, every sensor in his body was focused on the tight pressure entering his valve-- his optics weren't even focusing on Megatron any more.

"I won't let your greedy little valve be completely neglected," Megatron continued. The rest of the false spike slid home, and Megatron petted the outside of Optimus' valve in approval. "But you're not going to get  _ my _ spike until I decide you've earned it. Understood?"

The spike was the perfect size: small enough for Optimus to take it easily, but big enough that it stretched him in a pleasing way. He offlined his optics and leaned into Megatron's palm. "Understood." [Can you please keep touching me? I don't care where...]

Megatron bumped his helm against Optimus' and nuzzled affectionately at his cheek. [I will.] He gave Optimus a lingering kiss on the cheek before sitting on the edge of the berth. "Now," he said, voice gone cool and commanding. "Suck my spike again."

Optimus sat back on his heels for a moment simply to admire Megatron's spike. It was mostly black all over with some silver accents at intervals. Purple bio-lights shone between the gaps of the delicate plating, and a line of red nodes on the underside completed the appearance. Optimus vividly remembered those nodes sliding over his tongue just a few minutes ago. He leaned forward and licked from the base all the way to the tip before finally taking it in his mouth.

Megatron moaned quietly, but refrained from grabbing control of Optimus' helm again. He tickled one of his finials with a finger, then slid down and traced the seams in Optimus' upper back. "Impress me."

So Optimus did.

He tried everything he knew how to do-- licking, kissing, moaning, taking it deep or shallow, slow or fast-- in order to make Megatron overload again, more for the sheer delight of seeing his expressions than the hope to get any closer to an overload. Evidently he succeeded, because after a couple minutes of hard work, Megatron gasped and pulled Optimus in, and a fresh surge of transfluid burst into Optimus' mouth. He didn't swallow all of it; once Megatron stopped shuddering, Optimus pulled off of his spike and opened his mouth, displaying the fluid still pooled on his tongue.

Megatron laughed hoarsely. "Dirty little thing, let's see if you're so cheeky by the time I'm through with you." He pulled Optimus back onto his spike.

Optimus had only been sucking worshipfully for a short time when he heard a tiny click near one audial.

Then the false spike started to vibrate inside of him.

"Mmm?!" Optimus strained his optics to the side and saw that a remote had suddenly appeared in Megatron's hand, practically invisible against the identical black color of his hand. He looked up and saw Megatron grinning smugly.

"Yes, Optimus?" He put his hand on Optimus' helm and pulled him in. "Keep sucking, I haven't decided if I'm going to let you overload yet."

He squirmed and bent to task again. Sometime later, the vibrations increased, and Optimus' hips jerked. The only thing that kept him from taking all of Megatron's spike at once was his hand at the base where he had been pumping it. He arched his back, trying and failing to get his own body under control.

The vibrations stopped. "Optimus," Megatron rumbled.

Optimus whined apologetically. The sudden absence of stimulation had his valve aching and clenching rhythmically around the spike filling it. He grabbed Megatron's thigh harder and resumed the motion he liked so much: taking his spike in as deep as he could, pulling out halfway, then bobbing back in, long and slow so that he felt every inch of his tongue and throat.

"Good." The vibrations resumed. Optimus moaned loudly around Megatron's spike. His jaw was starting to ache a little bit, but he had to keep going, he wanted to overload so badly. Every time he took Megatron's spike in deep, he imagined that it was going in his valve instead, and without thinking about it, he started to move fast.

Megatron's hips started rising off of the berth in time with Optimus' rhythm. "Is there something you want?" He murmured.

Optimus needed a moment to realize that he could reply. [Spike, overload, in me,] he commed incoherently.

"Oh, if you insist." Megatron grabbed Optimus' helm and held him still until he surrendered control. He shifted position slowly, and then without warning he started fucking Optimus' mouth just as fast as Optimus had been moving before, still precisely avoiding going any deeper than Optimus could handle.

Optimus scraped his fingers down Megatron's legs. He was using his mouth like a frag toy, oh, it wasn't what Optimus wanted but it was just as good, better even. All he had to do was go lax in Megatron's grip and let him control him how he wanted. He could just focus on the vibrations inside of him. He was so close. He could rub his node right now and finally get to overload, only he couldn't let go of Megatron or he might collapse--

Megatron overloaded in Optimus' mouth this time, holding his helm rigidly in place in order to keep the pulses of transfluid running over his tongue. Some of it dripped over his lips; Optimus was gasping and whimpering too much to keep it all inside of his mouth. The false spike kept vibrating.  _ Just a few more moments, just a few more, just-- _

_ Click. _ The toy turned off. Optimus sobbed.

Megatron pulled his spike out, and distantly Optimus heard the sound of his spike depressurizing and the panel folding back over the housing. Then a firm grip took his chin and tilted his face up.

"Oh,  _ excellent," _ Megatron snarled, grinning in savage delight. His fingers tightened almost enough to hurt. "I could frag your mouth for hours, but this is enough for tonight." He punctuated the statement by catching a line of transfluid with his thumb, then running it over Optimus' lips and into his mouth. "Swallow it."

Optimus obeyed, even though he had to attempt multiple times before he could actually manage it. His unreleased charge burned every inch of his frame, half pain and half ecstasy.

Megatron sighed in deep satisfaction. Then he lifted Optimus again and maneuvered him until he was flat on the bed, back and helm propped up against a mound of pillows.

Megatron touched Optimus' throat. He was frowning a little in concentration as he said, "Nothing hurts? Is everything well?"

"I'm fine," Optimus answered hoarsely. "But if I could finish my overload, I would be even better."

"Bold words, Optimus." Megatron smirked in a dangerous way as he reached down and palmed Optimus' valve. "This  _ is _ very impressive, though. Did you know that this particular toy is one of my favorites? I can only fit it whenever I've  _ really _ worked my valve open for a while, but here you are taking it as a warm-up."

Optimus choked. He-- he wanted to know what Megatron looked like with a spike toy inside of him. His own valve squeezed and dribbled a fresh surge of lubricant. 

"However, I think we have other things to do..." Megatron grabbed the base of the toy.

"No!" Optimus cried out. "No, don't, please!" He tightened his valve around the toy, desperately trying to keep it inside.

Megatron paused halfway through pulling the false spike out. He smirked infuriatingly. "You're not getting a valve overload unless it's around  _ my _ spike. Until then..." He pulled the toy out in one quick movement.

_ "Megatron!" _ Optimus lunged for the toy. His thighs were trapped by the spreader bar, so his instinctive attempt to leg-lock Megatron and then roll them over failed instantly. Megatron's engine revved and he pounced on Optimus, pinning his forearms down. Optimus kept struggling even though he knew it was useless. Megatron's lights brightened with excitement as he loomed above Optimus.

Finally Optimus went limp. "You're cruel," he gasped. His valve felt so empty. It kept clenching, trying to recapture the spike toy that was no longer there, trying to generate some sort of friction to finally overload.

Megatron laughed. "I'm only doing what you asked me to do." There was the sound of a subspace compartment opening, a soft rattle, and within moments Megatron clamped cuffs around both of Optimus' wrists and forced them against the headboard. They stuck there no matter how much Optimus strained against them. Magnetized, no doubt.

"Now, my dear Optimus, my greedy little mech..." Megatron pushed Optimus' thighs flat against the bed and began to crawl over his body.

Optimus caught the faintest glimmer and looked down. There, between Megatron's legs, his valve panel was already open, and he was dripping lubricant onto Optimus' thighs and abdomen as he straddled his hips.

Megatron leaned in until their foreheads were touching. "You're so needy that you call me cruel for giving you exactly what you wanted. Give me your spike, and I'll show you exactly how  _ generous  _ I can be."

Optimus shivered from the words and Megatron's devouring expression. "You're going to ruin me."

"Yes," Megatron answered, optics brightening. He ground his sopping wet valve against Optimus' spike panel. "Let go and let me use you."

Optimus opened his spike panel. As the nodes on his spike rubbed against Megatron's valve, he lifted himself up and kissed him. Megatron followed him when he fell back against the pillows, and they traded hot, lingering kisses for a long time as Megatron ground against him, back and forth, back and forth.

Just when Optimus thought he was about to be teased all the way to another denial, Megatron finally reached down and angled his spike so that the head slid into his valve on the next movement of his hips. They both moaned in unison. Megatron's engine revved loudly, and then in a flash he pushed himself up, braced himself on Optimus' chest, and started sinking lower onto his spike.

"I've--" Megatron gasped. "Been wanting--  _ uhnn _ \-- to reacquaint myself with this-- for a long time..." He shuddered all over, and his fingertips left dents in Optimus' plating.

His valve was so tight around Optimus' spike, and Optimus kept bucking up into it instinctively. The charge from his last incomplete overload was still built up in his lines, so even the first moments of being inside Megatron had him already teetering on the plummet towards overloading. Spellbound, he watched the way the plating on Megatron's waist and abdomen rippled with every roll of his hips, and how his face kept going tense every time he tried to hold back a moan. He had never wanted to touch Megatron more badly in all of his functioning. He pulled on his bonds again, testing them until the metal gave a quiet creak.

"Oh no you don't!" Megatron took Optimus' spike all the way to the hilt in one sudden movement. Optimus gasped. "No fighting, no trying to escape. Just lay back and enjoy it." He grinned and rolled his hips, rippling his valve around Optimus' spike.

"I'm not--" Optimus moaned. " _ Hhh-- _ not going to last,  _ hah, _ if you keep doing that!"

"Then it's a good thing you’re not supposed to." Megatron squeezed rhythmically with his valve, then leaned down and whispered low to him. "Overload, greedy Prime. I know you need it."

Megatron stayed down there with him as he moved his hips relentlessly, watching Optimus' every expression as his charge rose higher and higher until he finally overloaded. He rode Optimus through the entire overload, then kept moving, making Optimus writhe and struggle against his restraints as his oversensitive spike was bombarded with charge.

When Megatron finally overloaded, his entire body arched back as he shouted in ecstasy. His thighs tightened, his hips ground down against Optimus'. Optimus groaned and fought against the restraints, trying to move with Megatron to prolong his overload, but he couldn't. His fingertips dented the palms of his hands as he watched Megatron finally sag down again, optics offline and mouth still open.

Then, like nothing had happened at all, Megatron onlined his optics and grinned at Optimus. "You had better have more to give me," he growled. "I want to be filled to the brim by the time I'm through with your spike."

Optimus choked out something vaguely affirmative as he bucked up and overloaded into Megatron again.

Megatron did exactly as he said he would and used Optimus. He found every angle he could to bring himself to overload, but it didn't matter; whatever he did, Optimus was always spellbound by the magnificent way Megatron's body moved, and all the tiny different ways his face could twist in pleasure. He simply couldn't help overloading again and again when Megatron was so hot and tight around him.

Optimus emerged from his latest overload with a gasp. "Megatron," he begged. "Please let me touch you. I want to feel you move."

Megatron wordlessly reached out and released the handcuffs. Optimus' hands jumped to his body like they were magnetized. He slid appreciatively down Megatron's chest and waist, savoring the way Megatron arched into his touch, and fastened his hands on Megatron's hip plating. It fit in his hands as perfectly as Optimus had dreamed. As Megatron kept moving, Optimus guided his hips along the way.

If Megatron had been riding him furiously before, the speed and force he managed with Optimus' hands on him was like a wild storm of charge.  _ His  _ hands were free now too, and he made full use of the fact by finding and digging into every sensitive seam and armor plate on Optimus' torso until he shouted.

Optimus was too hot, approaching his limit. The steam from his smokestacks had formed glittering condensation all over Megatron's plating, visible because of how brightly Megatron's biolights were glowing from charge. He focused on pistoning Megatron up and down on top of him, vision narrowing to just Megatron's face until the other finally threw his helm back and overloaded, shouting. Optimus followed him, and then every joint in his body gave up and he went limp against the berth.

He was too overheated to move when Megatron lifted off of his spike; he couldn't even force his optics online.  _ Megatron  _ didn't even seem phased. His footsteps were strong, if slightly uneven, as he walked somewhere else in the room, opened something, clicked something else on the other side of the room, and then came back to the side of the bed.

"Drink," Megatron murmured. One strong hand slid behind Optimus' helm and lifted it, and a cold bottle opening pressed against his lips. Optimus sucked down the ice-cold coolant in huge gulps, making Megatron tilt the container back so that it flowed more slowly down his throat. "Easy, now."

Optimus already felt more coherent by the time he finished the bottle, and when Megatron offered him energon, he sipped at it more calmly. He met Megatron's optics over the rim and did his best to smile at him. Megatron smiled back.

"Better?" Even when offering Optimus a bedside drink, Megatron managed to be seductive. His hips tilted in a perfect way when he straightened and swirled the canister to test how much fuel was left inside. When he saw that Optimus was watching him, Megatron very deliberately slid his free palm down his abdominal plating and cupped his spike panel.

Optimus' engine revved. Megatron laughed and flicked the gathered beads of condensation onto his face. "Is there something you're interested in?" He drawled.

Optimus answered with outraged static. Megatron flashed his biolights in the same pattern from the bar, then laughed some more. "You should see the look on your face right now. Priceless."

Optimus tried to come up with a retort. Maybe,  _ you should see how much transfluid is smeared on your thighs right now, _ but no-- he liked that sight too much to even try to use it as an insult. So he just rumbled and jerked his helm to the spot next to him on the bed. He would have dragged Megatron down himself if he hadn't been half-immobile from how satiated he was. 

Megatron set the empty canister down onto the nightstand and crawled over Optimus until he had him caged under him. He flashed a grin at him before settling his weight on top and nuzzling his throat.

Optimus tipped his chin up cooperatively, which provoked a pleased noise from Megatron, who was already purring all over in deep satisfaction. Between the purring and the persistent nuzzling, Optimus was reminded of nothing else but cats he had seen in videos on Earth. The out of place thought made him huff with laughter, which turned into a gasp when Megatron nipped lightly at a fuel line.

"What's so funny?"

Optimus decided that Megatron wouldn't appreciate the comparison-- especially not in the middle of a long-awaited interface-- so he decided to tell a different truth. "You're just so affectionate," Optimus murmured. And because Megatron seemed to like it when he admitted vulnerable things, he added, "If you do this every time we interface, I'll come to your berth as often as you want."

Lips at Optimus' throat curved into a pleased smile. "Careful, Optimus. Keep offering and I'll keep taking from you."

Megatron started sucking harder at his neck cables, and Optimus melted into the attention. Every movement sent tingles through his body. He obligingly turned his helm the other way when Megatron continued the job on the opposite side of his neck.

He didn't notice how warm both of their bodies were starting to run until Megatron reached down and cupped his valve in one hand. He had forgotten to close his panel this entire time, and the feeling of that possessive touch on the neglected mesh had Optimus' engine revving back up.

"I do hope you didn't think I had forgotten about this." Megatron kneaded the mesh under his fingers. Optimus rolled his hips into it as best he could-- the spreader bar still kept him from getting very good leverage from his legs, and Megatron’s body was immovable. "It's the only part of you left that I haven't claimed fully, after all."

Optimus kept his voice demure, but the way he met Megatron's stare was daring. "Keep taking from me, and I might let you have it."

That was the breaking point that had him hauled up and onto his hands and knees before he could fully process what was happening. Then he heard the familiar sound of Megatron's spike panel opening and felt the other's weight lean heavily upon his back.

"You know I'm going to be rough with you," Megatron breathed into his audial.

Optimus could feel the base of Megatron's spike pressing against his valve. He nodded and then rocked his hips back, but Megatron didn't budge.

"Tell me exactly what you want. Tell me that you know what you're asking for so that I don't hurt you."

Optimus blinked at the utter seriousness in Megatron's voice. Trying his best to reciprocate, he tore his attention away from Megatron's spike and looked back at him from the corner of his optic. It wasn't embarrassing to speak so frankly after everything they had already done-- after all the care Megatron had taken for this.

"I want you to spike me, hard and fast and rough. Overload as many times as you want, deny or overload me as much as you want. You can do whatever you please as long as you don't stop, even when I struggle or ask you to stop." Optimus burned inside as he cleared his vocalizer and added in a whisper, "Fuck me until I cry."

Megatron's engine revved, buzzing through Optimus' back plating. He wrapped one hand around his waist as tightly as if he expected Optimus to try to escape that moment. "And what is the word we agreed on for if you  _ need _ to stop?"

"Cybertron," Optimus answered promptly.

Megatron groaned and immediately shifted so that he could thrust two fingers into Optimus’ valve and start working him open. Evidently he hadn't forgotten Optimus' first overload, because within seconds he found all the node clusters that made Optimus writhe. His arms collapsed and he just laid there with his aft in the air, not thinking.

His hips kept jumping every time Megatron pressed in the right places, and eventually Megatron gripped Optimus' hip with his free hand to hold him still. "So needy. You look good presenting yourself under me like this."

Optimus buried his face into the pillows as hard as he could to hide the noise that burst from his lips.

Megatron clicked in mock disappointment. "You have your aft in the air for me yet you try to hide your voice? Optimus--" His voice went low and harsh. "--Don't you know by now that every part of you belongs to me?" And he let go of Optimus, hooked both thumbs into Optimus' valve, and stretched the supple rim as far as it would open.

Optimus gasped. "You're filthy," he accused Megatron in a shaking voice.

"No, you are," Megatron purred. He pushed his thumbs in deeper. "Look at this. You really weren't lying when you said you could take me easily."

Megatron didn't say anything after that, which Optimus immediately registered as a bad sign mere moments before Megatron's tongue started lapping over his node.

"Aah!" Optimus yelped. He held onto the headboard for dear life as Megatron laved the sensitive node and licked up every drop of lubricant that escaped his valve. It was one thing to be fragged so hard he barely knew what was happening to him, but it was a completely different experience to be so meticulously ravished and tormented with such dirty words. He tried to pull away, but Megatron didn't let go.

He licked at Optimus' node until his thighs were shaking. Then he slowed down to an agonizing pace, waiting until Optimus’ legs went steady before he started licking harder and faster. Optimus was riding the ocean of pleasure endlessly up and down, falling down into nothing just as he thought he would reach another peak. Noises he didn't even know he was capable of making broke from his vocalizer. He tried to choke out Megatron's name, but it came out in illegible static.

Finally, finally Megatron pulled away. "I think you can handle me now," he rasped. 

Perhaps Optimus owed his respite to the fact that Megatron sounded equally as desperate to get inside of Optimus as Optimus was to have him.

Optimus didn’t resist as Megatron hauled him back onto his hands and knees. He did gasp when the head of Megatron's spike rubbed enticingly against his valve.

Megatron's hands ran up and down his back. A few times, his vocalizer clicked like he was about to say something, but he never did. He just panted like he was equally at a loss for words as Optimus.

Optimus tilted his hips up so that the spike head slid fully inside. He whimpered and tightened around the intrusion. He couldn't see how much there was to go when Megatron was taking him from behind. He couldn't do anything but wait and hope he could fit that entire wonderful spike inside of him--

Megatron made a strangled noise. His hands tightened on Optimus' hips and he finally, finally began to slide inside.

Optimus pushed his hips back in welcome. He forgot the words to ask aloud; he just whined, low and unbroken as Megatron slid in agonizingly slowly. His wordless begging seemed to work, because Megatron's movement stuttered and he started moving in unsteady thrusts rather than a smooth slide. Charge sparked all over Optimus' body and he shuddered.

Megatron snarled something incoherent and pulled Optimus' hips into a sharp thrust, knocking their hips together with a clang. Optimus shouted. Megatron kept doing it, again and again and again. He punctuated each move with something spat into Optimus' audial. "Fucking tight-- know exactly what you-- beg me for it--"

Optimus overloaded within seconds, but Megatron still fucked him relentlessly through it, whispering filthy things to him all the while. "--Only the start, going to fill you up-- bent over like a frag toy--"

Optimus sagged into the covers when his charge finally spent itself. Then Megatron grabbed him by the elbows and pulled him upright again.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Optimus panted, jarred by every harsh thrust Megatron gave. He tried to speak, but the impulse kept stuttering out as his valve was relentlessly filled.

Megatron pulled harder on Optimus’ arms.“Isn’t it?!” He snarled, engines kicking up higher.

“Ah! Y-yes…” Optimus whispered, almost inaudible.

“That’s right,” Megatron growled. “You want it so much you put yourself on your hands and knees for me, aft in the air so I could mount you and take you hard. Listen to yourself, you’re so wet that I can  _ hear it.” _

Optimus could hear it too, if he strained to hear past the sounds of their engines and the constant, low moans he was making in time with Megatron's rhythm. He pulled his arms back, thrashed his helm, tried to shift the angle, but he couldn't get control back from Megatron.

Megatron suddenly bottomed out in one last thrust and overloaded. The burst of charge and transfluid hit Optimus' valve in a wave. Now that Megatron was actually spiking him, Optimus could hardly believe that this was real. He had no idea how he could be taken even higher, but with Megatron saying all these things to him...

He had recovered by now, and he had one small mercy: he let Optimus' arms go so that he could hold some of his weight on them, and took him by the hips instead as he resumed his fast pace.

“I’m going to give you what you wanted, and I won’t stop. You’re going to take it, and take it, and when you’re spent and begging me to stop, I’m going to make you take it  _ more. _ You’re  _ mine, _ Optimus. Mine!”

Optimus made a low, desperate noise. Yes, his, he was Megatron's. He wanted Megatron to use his body and he was, just like Optimus had asked. He wanted to feel even more transfluid squeeze out of his valve and drip down his thighs from how hard Megatron was fragging him.

He pushed his aft back against Megatron's hips in a wordless plea. Megatron huffed and leaned over him. One of his hands let go of Optimus' hips and searched for his anterior node, finding it and rubbing over it almost instantly. Optimus choked and threw his helm back. He could feel Megatron resting his chin on his shoulder; he could feel the heat of his vents brush his cheek. He was probably watching his face, wanting to see his reactions, and the thought made Optimus writhe again.

Megatron groaned. His rhythm went uneven, like he was also coming close to overloading. He rasped, "Scream my name, Optimus. Tell the entire world who you belong to!"

"M-Mega--" He broke off into glitched sound. "Ah--  _ aahh, Megatron!" _

Optimus wasn't sure if he kept screaming through his overload; all he knew was that Megatron pressed even more impossibly close to him and crooned something praising in his audial while Optimus was in the throes of his overload, and then Megatron overloaded too and prolonged Optimus' even more. His vision went into static. He sank into the pillows with a relieved sigh, feeling the post-overload bliss of systems returning to equilibrium.

Megatron's next thrust reminded Optimus that his aft was still in the air. The one after that reminded him exactly what he had asked Megatron to do to him. Optimus lost count after that, but he did know that he was now thrashing in earnest, trying to escape Megatron's grasp and his spike that kept filling his oversensitive valve with charge.

"You didn't think I would let you relax, did you?" Megatron held him down through another burst of struggling, then resumed stroking Optimus' tender node.

Optimus keened and grabbed at Megatron's wrist, trying to pull him away from touching his node when it was so sensitive and vulnerable. Megatron only spread the valve lips and kneaded it more directly, making Optimus' fingers spasm.

"Your valve is so wet and tight. I think I should make up for every overload I had to give myself alone, waiting for this."

And he did. Optimus had to lay there and take Megatron's spike for he didn't even know how long as Megatron angled his hips this way and that, changed his rhythm slower or faster, stronger or gentler, taking Optimus in whatever way pleased him at that moment. He overloaded inside at least two times more before Optimus got his next overload. His valve was oversensitive and yet not sensitive at all; he felt every movement more intensely, but it seemed to take longer and longer to hit his peak again. 

Megatron kept going. Optimus kept struggling. He scratched frantically at the surface of the berth. He just--he just needed a moment, oh, it was too good, too good, if he took any more pleasure he was going to fall apart, please, just a moment--

Megatron dragged his hips back into the next thrust. His spike pressed in even deeper, enough to make Optimus keen desperately.

"I'm afraid not," Megatron chuckled. Voice purring with confidence and lust, he leaned down and said, "But you can keep struggling if you want."

Oh, that voice. The rest of Optimus' willpower drained; he just slumped over and let Megatron hold his hips.

Megatron started to play with him. He would let Optimus' hips slide from his grasp, and inevitably Optimus would try to crawl away. He would press himself against the headboard, venting hard, finally having a moment of respite-- and then Megatron would catch him and drag him back onto his spike.

The next time Optimus fled, Megatron didn’t drag him back. Instead, he cuffed Optimus’ wrists to the headboard again and kept fucking him there. "Why are you running, Optimus?" He crooned into his audial. "Doesn't it feel good?" He didn't stop pumping his hips even as he spoke.

Optimus could only reply in a garbled keen at first, body and mind too overwhelmed to form a coherent response.  _ Yes, yes, please slow down, no keep going, too much, not enough... _ “I-- yes, but-- I need-- Please, I need a moment--"

"What you need is to be stuffed with my spike until your legs give out," Megatron laughed.

Optimus' back was arched from the position Megatron had put him in. He had to rest all his weight against the headboard to keep from falling onto his face into the pillows, leaving his hips completely in Megatron's control. And Megatron was merciless; he kept adjusting the angle until he found the spot that made Optimus keen, then held his hips perfectly in place as he fucked him hard.

"Meg--Megatron, please, I can't!"

"Can't what? You begged for my spike for so long. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Ah!" A drip of lubricant fell from the corner of his mouth; he couldn't stop moaning from how well Megatron's thick, perfect spike was filling him. "Yes, but-- it's too much, too good, I--"

"Nothing is too good for you," Megatron hissed. "Do you hear me? Nothing!"

"Oh--!" He dropped his helm, suddenly too weak to do anything but cling to the headboard and ride through the storm of charge Megatron was relentlessly, inevitably kindling between them. "Please," he whispered, not sure if Megatron could even hear him.

Megatron purred and kissed the back of Optimus' neck. "Give me your spike." His free hand slid over Optimus' panel immediately after he spoke, massaging it enticingly.

Optimus wasn't sure he would be able to do it, but it turned out that that too was out of his control. As soon as his panel transformed away, Megatron slicked his fingers with Optimus' lubricant and started teasing his spike out of its housing, rubbing the underside of the head until the whole spike eagerly pressurized into his hand. Optimus bucked against Megatron, trying and failing to find relief from the pleasure. 

Megatron's hands were so skillful, rubbing slick patterns into his node and pumping his spike in time with the thrusts from his hips. Optimus had pleasured himself both ways at once before, but-- this was beyond that, he hadn't had an inkling of how much pleasure it was possible to experience at the same time. He let out a loud warble the next time Megatron thrust in. His vision blurred, and hot lines traces rapid paths down his face. Tears. He was actually crying, he was so overwhelmed. His array and all the circuitry in his body alone couldn't keep up with how much he was feeling. 

Optimus felt exposed. He hadn't cried in front of anyone in... he couldn't remember, he probably hadn't ever. He bit his lip through Megatron's next thrusts, trying to hold in the sobs that sounded so foreign to his own audials.

And then Megatron just...stopped.

He let go of Optimus' spike, took his fingers away from his node, and even straightened so that his weight no longer rested on Optimus' back.

"Megatron?" Optimus asked plaintively. He ached all over, not just on his array, with Megatron's touch gone.

And then Megatron started to pull out of him-- no, no, he didn't want to give up that too! Optimus whined in desperation and tightened his valve around Megatron's spike, too desperate to even speak.

Blessedly, Megatron stopped moving. "Be still," he commanded. He rested one hand possessively on the top of Optimus' helm, then tilted it up slowly. "You’re holding yourself back."

"I--" Optimus bit his lip.

Megatron's hand slid across his cheeks, tracing the tracks of tears over the metal. "You've been so good, Optimus." He leaned back onto Optimus, and Optimus shivered from the relief of that warmth.

"Now listen to me. You're not going to think of shame or fear. You alone are in my sight, and I alone am in yours. Yes?"

"Yes," Optimus whispered. A fresh teardrop fell and landed on Megatron's thumb. 

He brushed the track off of his face with a feather-light touch. "Feel nothing but me. Think of nothing else but me. Yes?"

Optimus offlined his optics and let Megatron's voice soak through him, sinking into his spark with a fresh surge of warmth. "Yes."

"Good," Megatron breathed. His hand delved back to Optimus' valve, spreading apart the plump folds and beginning a slow circle over the node. "I've been waiting to know your voice when you're lost to ecstasy. Every second of touching you right now has been worth that wait." His finger pressed down harder, tearing a cry from Optimus' vocalizer. "Let go for me, Optimus. Give me everything."

Optimus sobbed in response. It was so easy to remember now that Megatron was touching him again. No embarrassment over how loud and uncontrolled his voice was-- Megatron wanted him. No shame over laying so passively and accepting pleasure without giving anything back-- Megatron wanted him.

Megatron's other hand returned to his spike and stroked over it, slow but tight. Optimus rested his helm against the headboard and melted into the sensations with soft moans that grew louder as Megatron's hands moved faster. Finally he started spiking Optimus again, and Optimus' voice broke as it pitched higher.

Megatron was whispering to him again, a rush of words that Optimus couldn't fully understand any more:  _ mine, beautiful, yes, perfect, precious, mine, just like that, darling. _ Soon he couldn't hear what Megatron was saying over the sounds of his own screaming as Megatron returned to the relentless pounding he had been giving before.

Optimus' spark burned like a star. He wailed, "Don't stop, Megatron! I want it! You...want you...please, need, Megatron--"

Megatron hissed and squeezed him tighter, burying his face against the side of his neck. Optimus felt the shock of charge in his valve, the rush of transfluid as Megatron overloaded, and with a loud cry he followed after.

  
  
  


Long after the charge between them had crackled down to a normal level, Megatron held Optimus tightly against his chest. Something was different about him now; Megatron could feel it in how pliant Optimus' frame was, like he was going to simply drop to the berth if Megatron let him go. His vocalizer was more loose, too. He was sighing and quietly moaning with a pure tone, unmarred by the strain and static of embarrassment.

Megatron pulled out, and Optimus let out a disappointed noise. The sound made Megatron smile with an odd mix of fierce triumph and fondness: opposite yet coexisting desires to conquer and cherish at the same time.

He carefully released the handcuffs, unfastened the spreader bar, and rolled Optimus over. His valve was quite the lovely sight, still gaping and ready to take Megatron's spike again. So much transfluid was spilling out that it was already forming a little puddle underneath him. Megatron had done quite the thorough job.

He rumbled his engine. And maybe, if Optimus was up for it, he could do an even  _ more  _ thorough job. Megatron's spike was already ready for more, but he kept himself in check.

He looked up at Optimus' face and immediately raised a brow ridge. Optimus was staring back at him, and probably had been the entire time based on how fixated his optics were on Megatron's face. His lips were parted, optics half-dim and dilated... His expression was something straight out of an interface holo.

Something of Megatron’s thoughts must have shown on his face, because Optimus reached for his spike. "More?" He pleaded, trying to guide Megatron's spike back into his valve and failing, too weak to keep his hips angled the right way.

Megatron very nearly forced Optimus' thighs wide to pound him then and there, but he kept that impulse in check; someone had to keep their wits about him, and it was clearly going to be him.

"Really?" Megatron drawled, tracing one finger around the rim of Optimus' valve. "I gave you my spike  _ that  _ hard and you still want more?"

Optimus nodded, optics glowing brighter. "Want it." He looked down at Megatron's spike, still in his hand, and started stroking it. Looking back at Megatron, he said in a lilted tone, "Need it?" Like he was trying to figure out what Megatron wanted to hear and play to it, the fragger.

Megatron let Optimus keep stroking his spike and leaned in. "Do you have any damage alerts? Does anything hurt?" He kept his whisper gentle, but made sure Optimus was looking at him in the optics the whole time.

"No. Just a little sore. And tired. But this is fine," Optimus added, wiggling against the covers. "I want more. Can I please have more?"

Satisfied, Megatron tipped Optimus' helm back and started kissing his neck cables. The hand around his spike stuttered in its rhythm. He licked up Optimus' neck and the underside of his chin, provoking a squirm and a moan.

"I'll let you have my spike again," Megatron murmured. "But only if you're very good and do exactly what I tell you to do."

Optimus nodded frantically. "Yes, yes. Whatever you want. Megatron, please."

Megatron decided to have mercy on Optimus and slid his spike back inside his valve. Optimus immediately moaned as if he was already on the edge of overload and locked his legs around Megatron's hips like he was afraid he would pull out again.

Megatron leaned in and kissed Optimus hard, sliding his tongue between his lips; Optimus immediately opened even wider for him. "Who do you belong to?" Megatron demanded once they parted, low and sultry and completely confident in his dominion.

"You," Optimus breathed, optics wide.

"Tell me again." Megatron finally started moving-- not hard and fast like before, but slow rolls of his hips that savored every inch of Optimus' valve.

"I--  _ ah, so good!" _ Optimus tilted his helm back and arched into the pillows, optics winking offline.

"No. Come back to me. Focus." Megatron grabbed him by the chin and pulled. "Look me in the optics."

The world narrowed down to just them: warm metal under Megatron's fingers, blue optics staring only at him, Optimus' body supple and moving in sync with his own. "Now tell me that you belong to me."

"I--" Optimus moaned weakly and grabbed at Megatron's arm. "I belong to you. I'm yours."

"Good." Megatron let go of Optimus' chin. "You belong to me, so touch your node right now and show me what you like."

Optimus' hands dove between his legs instantly. He spread the folds of his valve with one hand-- where Megatron's spike wasn't already stretching it-- and used the other to play with his anterior node, hands shaking so much that it took him a few seconds to find a proper rhythm. All the while he kept his optics locked on Megatron, sometimes going dim or half-shuttered, but never looking away.

"You look so good like this," Megatron told him. "All loose and wanton and needy. Do you like it as much as I like watching you?"

"Yes!" Optimus' fingers moved faster. "Better-- so much better, than I could've dreamed--"

Megatron groaned. He was close to the edge already, but he wanted to watch Optimus fall over first. So he pushed into the other's valve as deep as he could and held it there. "Overload yourself," he ordered, vocalizer rasping with strain.

The view of Optimus with his fingers on his node was quite delectable, but Megatron found his gaze continuously pulled back up to Optimus’ face instead. All those tears running messily down his cheeks, those surprisingly supple lips parted on a long moan. Optimus was so exquisitely shameless, yet it also left him looking...fragile. Not a word Megatron had ever thought would apply to the dignified mech, or one that he had ever imagined finding appealing about Optimus, and yet...

Optimus' face twisted as he overloaded yet again with a loud cry. Megatron shuddered and released inside of him, too pleased by the tight clenching of that valve to hold back even though he wasn't moving.

Megatron vented deeply and lowered himself onto Optimus' chassis. He turned his cooling systems to maximum; he didn’t need it, but the air from his vents could help cool down Optimus' overheating frame.

Optimus made a little noise and nudged his nose against Megatron's. Megatron smiled and answered the wordless plea by kissing Optimus as he clearly wished. He was rewarded by Optimus wrapping around him with his whole body: legs tightening around his hips, arms over Megatron's back and stroking in that perfect way that Optimus somehow knew like it was instinct. Their engines started to sync up. Optimus kept making soft noises into the kiss-- not moans of lustful pleasure, but rather of pure contentment and happiness.

Megatron had to stop kissing him, he was smiling too hard. He pulled away until just their noses were touching and looked deeply into Optimus' optics. They were so warm, trusting. So soft. 

Megatron thought he had seen everything of Optimus before: the anger, the raw edges, the sorrow; but now he knew the trust, the pleasure, the warmth, even the tears. He wanted to see all of Optimus' sides and know that he had seen all the most hidden ones. He wanted to commit every second of Optimus' expression into memory and keep it nestled in his spark. He wanted to keep seeing this again and again, even if he had to keep Optimus by his side forever--

Oh. Megatron's spark throbbed in his chest.  _ Oh. _

He didn't know what else to do except lean back in and kiss Optimus again, trying to pour out the revelation from his spark to Optimus' through touch alone. Optimus answered with his own kisses, but when Megatron pressed in even more fiercely, a little shiver ran through Optimus' entire frame and he just went pliant against Megatron.

Optimus started rocking his hips against Megatron's and writhing like he had when Megatron had been taking him at a merciless pace. He moaned helplessly against Megatron's mouth and clawed at his back, but Megatron just smiled into it and kept it gentle and slow.

If there was one thing he was grateful for in this encounter, it was the fact that Optimus was so endearingly pliant to his flirtations. Another thrust that sent charge up Megatron's spinal strut, and he fleetingly thought that it was a good thing he had spent so much time teasing and riding Optimus beforehand. He was already coming close to another overload. It was just like he had imagined when he was self-servicing; Optimus was so responsive underneath him, his valve so slick and welcoming, that all the practice in the world couldn't have prepared Megatron for how good it felt to spike him.

He broke away from Optimus' mouth to bury his face in his neck again, panting and trying to hold back from overloading.

Optimus huffed and arched underneath him. "Overload in me?" He emphasized the request by re-hooking his legs around Megatron's hips and pulling him in deeper with his next thrust.

Ah, yes. The familiarity with each other's bodies went both ways.

Megatron smiled. Soft and vulnerable Optimus might be, but Megatron wasn't finished being devious quite yet. He gently started to pry himself out of Optimus' grip despite the other's loud protests. The whining got even louder when Megatron started working his fingers between them and prying Optimus' thighs away from him.

"I may like you when you're greedy," said Megatron in his most seductive voice, "but don't forget that I am the one in control here. Hush and let me use you. You'll enjoy it... I promise."

Optimus went limp so instantaneously that Megatron twitched, wondering for a moment if he had gone unconscious. Then he grinned even more. He held Optimus' legs open as he fragged him just to be sure that he wouldn't try clinging again, and because he liked the way Optimus' expression went all helpless when Megatron held him down.

His overload threatened to break at any moment. His panting hitched and went harsh. Optimus' optics widened as he braced himself to angle his hips up, like he was so desperate to make sure every drop of transfluid stayed inside him. The thought made Megatron laugh as he pulled out of Optimus' valve and immediately moved to straddle his waist.

Optimus barely had time to protest before Megatron stroked his spike once, twice, and then overloaded all over his windshields.

The needy whine that had just broken past his lips instantly shifted into a loud yelp. Optimus' optics went so bright that they were nearly white as he stared into Megatron's face.

Megatron sighed as the last drops of transfluid dripped onto Optimus' chest. He grinned at Optimus and stroked his spike from head to base, showing off when Optimus' optics shot down to watch the display.

Slowly, almost disbelievingly, Optimus brought his hands to his chest and ran his fingers through the mess covering the glass panes. "Megatron?" He finally asked, voice shaking.

"I just wanted to finish the job of marking you as mine," Megatron said. His engine revved lustfully. "What was it I said in your office? Ah, yes... you walking through the hallways covered in my transfluid. I confess I would rather keep the sight of you being so filthy all to myself, but the rest? Well..." He moved back between Optimus' legs and slid inside of him again. "Let's just say I'm going to paint your body until I don't have any more transfluid left to give you. How does that sound?"

Optimus nearly screamed with enthusiasm as he pulled Megatron back in.

That was the end of their interlude of gentle lovemaking; Megatron fucked Optimus again, not as hard but just as fast as before, shamelessly bringing himself to overload as fast as possible so that he could see another swathe of Optimus' body be covered in fluid. Optimus' flustered state didn't last long, either. He started playing with the transfluid on his glass panes again, drawing patterns in it and licking the fluid off of his fingers, all while smiling shamelessly at Megatron as he watched.

Megatron rewarded him with even more transfluid on his chest, and then he rubbed Optimus' node until he overloaded with a wail and a fresh surge of overwhelmed tears.

Somewhere in the timeless haze of pleasure between one overload and the next, Megatron leaned close to Optimus’ face. "Do you like it, my little toy?" His tongue parted his lips and he licked Optimus' cheek, feeling the ridges of scars and the flat taste of tears on his tongue.

Optimus whimpered and sputtered something.

"Just one more time, darling." Megatron grunted with effort, trying to time Optimus' overload before his own. "Would you like me to overload in your valve, or on your face?"

_ "Hhhhh," _ Optimus answered. He jerked his head a little bit.

Megatron made a throaty hum and licked up the tears on Optimus’ other cheek. "Face it is," he breathed. He pushed as deep into Optimus' valve as he could and stopped moving so he could focus on his node. Gritting his teeth and hissing with effort, Megatron managed to hold back even as Optimus overloaded and his spike was awash in the burst of charge.

Megatron pulled out as gently as he could. Optimus' optics flickered online, dim, and he watched Megatron straddle him and stroke quickly at his spike.

Hissing, Megatron finally overloaded, covering Optimus' face in thin ropes of transfluid. Optimus tilted his face up, and when a bit of fluid landed on his parted lips, he licked it up and swallowed, slow like he was savoring it.

"Nnngh," Megatron groaned. "Optimus." He couldn’t find adequate words to describe Optimus' expression and quickly gave up on trying. He just stroked over the other's helm and finials soothingly until Optimus came back to himself after a few minutes. Or, as back to himself as he could be when he was so thoroughly fragged out of his mind.

He clicked several times. Then he sent a comm: [Can’t talk.]

"Optimus." Megatron held Optimus’ cheek guards as his optics blearily focused on him. “Tell me how you feel.”

[All okay.]

Megatron chuckled. "I promised you, didn't I? You enjoyed it."

[Yes.] Optimus reached out weakly. [Hold me.]

Megatron obliged, and even pressed their helms together despite the stray smear of transfluid that got onto his nose. "Optimus," he whispered, savoring the other's name like he was saying it for the first time. He kept whispering sweet nothings to him until Optimus started shaking with little bursts of giggles.

"Alright," he finally said after several minutes of just staring into each other's optics in silence. "It's time to clean up."

With a little bit of willpower, he managed to get up. Megatron stopped for a moment to admire Optimus and his thoroughly filthy frame: transfluid covered his torso and face and dripped from between his splayed legs, and he was smiling at Megatron with soft adoration.

He picked Optimus up and carried him to the wash racks. He tested the shower with one hand until the solvent was nice and cool, then guided Optimus to sit on the floor and whispered to him that he would be back.

Megatron moved rapidly after that; the dual motivations to clean up the absolute mess they had made of his bed and to return to Optimus before he got lonely were enough to have him change the bedding and wipe away the small trail of fluids they had left on the floor during their move to the wash rack in record time. He hurried back to the shower and saw that Optimus was leisurely stretched out under the spray of solvent while his engine rumbled in loud contentment.

Megatron grabbed fresh cleaning supplies from his supply cabinet and knelt by Optimus' side. "Hello there," he murmured, already soaking a cloth and starting to dab carefully at Optimus' face, making sure to not push the fluid into his optics. He found himself losing focus on cleaning Optimus' face in favor of running his fingers over the scars in the metal: there were so many old weld marks and places where torn or crumpled metal had been smoothed back into place.

Megatron was just leaning in to plant a kiss on one of them when Optimus wobbled and bumped his leg against Megatron. He was trying to put his foot on a sponge and drag it to his outstretched hand. [Can I clean you too?]

Megatron slid the sponge close enough for Optimus to grab, letting that stand as his answer.

He had to help Optimus sit up against the wall of the shower, but despite Optimus' continued trembling, his hands moved across Megatron's body with equal care as Megatron did with his.

Megatron gently pushed apart Optimus' unresisting legs to get at his array. "Open up."

Optimus' valve panel was already open, but he obligingly opened his spike panel as well. Megatron just cleaned the outside of the housing-- the sheath could clean itself without outside help, he had learned while researching-- and nudged the panel until Optimus shut it again. Then he returned to Optimus' valve with a fresh cloth and started wiping carefully at it.

There was a little whirr. Then Optimus twitched, and then he shivered.

"Is something wrong?" Megatron's voice rose in alarm. He had been rather rough with Optimus...and with so many overloads, something could have gone wrong--

Optimus moaned softly and lifted his hips. [It feels good.]

Really?  _ Really?  _ Megatron laughed and lightly swatted Optimus' leg with the washcloth. "And here I thought I couldn't be any more surprised by the depths of your repressed lust. Filthy mech."

Optimus' engine kicked up into an even louder purr. When he commed, Megatron could almost imagine a sultry, soft whisper to pair with his playful smile: [If you want to...]

Oh, he was tempted. After a moment of consideration, Megatron eased a finger between the folds of Optimus' valve and felt the interior. Still running very warm, which was a good sign that his array was still functioning, and surprisingly lubricated considering just how long they had been going at it already, but the calipers were trembling. He decided it wasn't worth the risk to Optimus to find out how much they still had left in them.

However...there were other ways.

Megatron wrapped his arms around Optimus, then stood with a heavy grunt. He pinned Optimus against the wall and pulled back just enough to let his spike pressurize again.

"I wonder," he murmured as he rubbed his spike against the lips of Optimus’ valve. "Are you always this lustful, or is it something you only feel for me?"

Optimus struggled slightly as the charge from Megatron's spike made contact with the nodes around his valve. "Just--" He gasped. [Just you,] he finished in comms.

Megatron pressed closer and revved his engine, making sure that Optimus could feel the vibration across as much of his chassis as possible. "Mmm, just me? Good." The slide of his spike was starting to become easier; he could feel lubricant starting to slick against the underside of the shaft. He grabbed Optimus under the aft and hiked him up higher against the wall. "Come now, hold onto me. Don't be shy."

Optimus immediately rested his arms over Megatron's neck armor and clung to him. His helm was resting on Megatron's collar, and weak little whines and moans barely escaped his vocalizer.

Megatron rolled his hips, setting an inexorable yet gentle pace, just enjoying the sweet slide back and forth.

"Meg--" Optimus cut off with a low whimper. He kept making small noises and chokes in Megatron's audial. "Ah... pl-plea--oh...! Nnn!"

"You're doing so well," Megatron soothed. "You're almost there, Optimus. Just hold onto me."

Every new thrust had Optimus’ grip spasming and frantically scrabbling for a new handhold like he was drowning. Megatron enjoyed the desperation and uninhibited noises, but maintained the stream of compliments and hums into Optimus' audial.

Optimus started to writhe against the wall. He tipped his head back with a desperate cry as fresh tears slid down his cheeks. [I can’t-- It feels too-- I won’t make it--]

“You will make it. I know you can.” Megatron kissed up Optimus’ exposed neck and rested their helms together. “Let go, just like that,” he whispered as Optimus arched against him and overloaded. “Very good. You did such a good job.”

Optimus choked and went limp in Megatron's arms, helm thumping against his shoulder in sheer exhaustion. Megatron slid just the tip of his spike inside of Optimus’ valve as he overloaded. Only a few drops of transfluid escaped after Megatron pulled out; he really had kept his promise to fill Optimus until his tank went dry. He continued a stream of soft hushes and earnest praise, nuzzling and kissing Optimus nonstop until he slowly lifted his helm again and blinked at Megatron.

Optimus had been barely able to stand before, but now Megatron really did have to hold him upright as he turned off the shower and took them into the drying area. He set the air to a lukewarm temperature so as to not shock Optimus' frame. Optimus just leaned against him with his optics offline, sighing and making wordless clicking and humming noises. Megatron laid a protective kiss against his visor, and when the air turned off, picked him up and took him back to the berth.

Optimus seemed surprised by the cool, clean sheets underneath him. He turned his helm weakly from side to side and kneaded the plush covers.

"Do you want another?" Megatron held up a comforter.

Optimus nodded. He commed, [And you. With me. Please.]

Megatron settled on the bed next to him and did a little bit of fancy maneuvering to start unfolding the large comforter. Just as he was about to flap it over the two of them and settle down, Optimus said, [On top.]

There was one last puff of cool air as Megatron threw the blanket over the two of them. As it settled, Megatron tucked the edges close to them and then carefully let his weight rest on Optimus.

Their combined engine heat soon warmed their little nest to a comfortable, soothing warmth, especially in contrast to how low Megatron had turned the temperature in order to keep them cooler during their interface. They both sighed in unison.

Optimus tapped on Megatron's waist. When Megatron lifted his helm, the other smiled at him adoringly. [So good. Wonderful, amazing, beautiful.]

"You do know how to flatter when you put your mind to it," Megatron chuckled. He kissed Optimus on the cheek and lingered there, feeling the warm metal against his lips.

[Want you to stay here forever, hold me, be mine. Be mine, with me, have me. Whatever you want, whenever you want. Be with me.]

Megatron sensed a more genuine meaning beneath the incoherent, uninhibited words. He smiled, his spark pulsing. He would wait until Optimus resurfaced from his post-overload bliss to hear those words spoken again.

"I'm here, and I won't leave," he whispered. "You already have me."

Optimus made a high-pitched sound that Megatron didn't recognize for a moment: it was a trill, weak but clearly elated.

Megatron laughed and showered Optimus' face in kisses. It seemed Optimus had some energy left, because he returned the kisses with equal enthusiasm, even though Megatron had to hold his helm up himself so that he wouldn't drop it back down to the pillows again. Optimus really was a good kisser, even when he was practically drunk on bliss. And his hands always managed to find the most pleasant seams on Megatron's waist.

Eventually, Optimus' kisses weakened into nuzzles, and then his helm sank back into the pillows. Megatron could feel the downwards-pitching hum of Optimus' engine dropping into low power.

Megatron sighed and tucked himself even closer against Optimus' body. "You're mine," he breathed to the sleeping mech, almost inaudible even to himself.

When they woke up in the morning... Megatron would tell Optimus how he felt about him.


	4. Epilogue

When Optimus awoke for the first time, only the most basic of his sensors and processes were online. Warmth. Softness. Comfort. Quiet humming. A weight dipping the berth next to him. Everything was right in the world. He only remained online long enough to feel a hand on his cheek and whispering in his audial. He drifted off again.

The next time Optimus awoke, he was aware that there was something unusual here: the pillows were too soft, the mattress too supple. He didn't normally share a berth with anyone, but he could feel the residual heat from someone else's engine on the berth next to him. Still, his systems didn't give off any warning signs, so he stayed relaxed. Out of reflex, he let a stray processor access today's schedule: there was nothing to do, nothing to worry about. Also strange.

Optimus vented deeply, but he still didn't move. The berth was just so comfortable. It would be even more comfortable if Megatron came back and cuddled with him again.

Ah, Megatron.

Optimus definitely wasn't going to fall back asleep again, but he still kept his engine in low-power and didn't move, didn't online his optics. He really didn't want to get up; this feeling was too nice to spoil by rising any sooner than he had to. And perhaps just as much, he wanted to know what Megatron would do while he thought Optimus was still asleep. Optimus' spark brightened just thinking about it.

Sure enough, in less than a minute, Optimus heard Megatron's footsteps as he entered the room and stopped at Optimus' side of the berth. He felt prickly and warm all over, knowing Megatron was looking at him but not being able to look back.

"I don't normally take my energon in bed," Megatron murmured conversationally, "but for you, I'll make an exception." He touched a single fingertip to the curve of Optimus’ bottom lip.

Staying still had never been harder in Optimus' entire life, especially because Megatron just stayed there forever, just touching him and looking at him. He finally lifted his finger and walked to the other side of the berth, sliding onto the covers next to him and rustling around for a moment.

A heavy hand rested gently on his cheek and tilted his helm to the side. Then Megatron kept his hand there even as he drank his energon, offering little remarks in between sips.

"I must have tired you out.”. He only sounded a little bit smug; mostly he sounded fond, and soft, and indulgent. "I can't imagine you sleeping in for any other reason... Unless you were sedated and in a medbay, most likely. Heh."

Megatron was talking quietly enough that Optimus wouldn't have heard him unless he wasn't already awake. Still, it was a surprise to hear that he was so conversational. Optimus wondered if Megatron was like this around anyone else, then realized that Megatron didn't let anyone share his berth like this, which made him feel warm all over again. Surely Megatron would notice the sudden uptick in his temperature at any moment...

But Megatron just kept drinking and idly stroking Optimus' face. A quiet clink marked him setting his cube on the bedside table, and then he rolled over and settled down next to Optimus. His elbow dipped the pillow next to Optimus' finial, and he rested his other hand on Optimus' hip, stroking it in a chastely affectionate way.

"Optimus." Still in a whisper, slow and savoring. Megatron's hand moved from his hip and returned to his cheek. "I'm not going to be able to hold myself back from waking you for much longer." He pressed his helm to Optimus' and sighed. "Yet you're so lovely when you're this relaxed."

Optimus dug his fingers into the mattress. He was going to start puffing steam at any moment. Megatron wasn't even trying to fluster him-- he didn't even know Optimus was awake-- yet every word out of his mouth was still perfect to break his composure.

And then Megatron tilted his face and brushed the lightest kiss against Optimus' lips, and he just couldn't stand it any more. He kissed Megatron back hard, slotting their mouths closer so that even more of their lips could press together. Megatron stiffened for a split second, and then he kissed back too, sliding his hand to the back of Optimus' helm and pulling him in harder. Optimus responded by grabbing onto Megatron's collar with one hand, rolling over so that he was chest-to-chest with him.

Optimus onlined his optics to see that Megatron was also looking back at him, optical light dim. They kept their gazes locked, even as they kissed each other one final time and pulled away just enough to have the tips of their noses touching.

"That's a hell of a way to wake up," Optimus said hoarsely. It was true, even if he hadn't actually been asleep when it happened.

Megatron chuckled anyways and pecked him on the lips. "You slept in, Optimus. It's past midday."

"Mmm," Optimus answered. He finally broke optic contact to stretch luxuriously-- at least, as well as he could with Megatron pressed close enough to his side that he could barely move that arm and leg. "I take it you don't mind me taking an extended stay here?"

"Not at all," Megatron purred. He then rolled over and straddled Optimus in one smooth movement, looming and blocking out the view of the rest of the room. "How is your array functioning?"

Optimus pulled a face. It seemed the sweet nothings were reserved for when Optimus was asleep and couldn't properly reciprocate. "I'm not up for another session like last night, if that’s what you’re asking for." His valve and spike--especially his valve-- both ached still, but in a way that was oddly satisfying and only a little bit uncomfortable.

"Have no fear, Optimus. I have no intention of breaking you." Megatron leaned down and stroked Optimus' cheek with the back of his finger. "But I have to tell you that I was pleasantly surprised by your level of  _ enthusiasm _ last night."

That was-- oh, right. Enthusiasm. Optimus reviewed the memory files of last night and immediately revved up in embarrassment. He had... done a lot of things. Lewd things. Very enthusiastically lewd and shameless things. His interface subsystem was starting to power up a little bit thinking about those things, but Optimus throttled it. All of his circuitry still felt raw from the number of overloads he had had... And for that matter, he wasn't sure what would happen if he tried to stand up.

"I didn't know that was going to happen," Optimus said sullenly, turning his face away in an attempt to preserve some dignity.

"No, no." Megatron caught him by the cheek guard and tilted his face back up. "Don't act modest in front of me _ now. _ It was a pleasure to see you enjoying yourself so thoroughly. Quite... endearing, in fact."

Megatron's expression didn't look teasing any more. The turn of his mouth was serious, on the verge of a frown, but his optics were half-dim with a gentle, contemplative light.

Optimus remembered other things he had said last night. How he had been keeping those feelings in reserve, waiting to find an opportune time to confess to Megatron... yet they had all come spilling out last night. And...  _ You already have me, _ Megatron had said.

He reached up and touched his fingertips to Megatron's lips. "Those things I told you last night," he said, looking directly into Megatron's optics. "I meant all of them. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but I did mean them. I want to be with you in every way I can have you." He turned his hand and stroked at Megatron's cheek, tracing over the lines in the metal. "And I think you feel the same about me."

Megatron looked at him for a long time, optics flickering up and down his face. Then he smiled. That softness looked exquisite on his face, and it made Optimus jolt inside like his entire body had recalibrated itself around the existence of Megatron’s smile. He didn’t resist as Megatron caught his hand and turned his face to press a kiss to his palm.

“I enjoyed seeing another side to you last night,” Megatron said. Though he spoke the words into Optimus’ palm, lips tickling the metal, his optics were focused on Optimus’. “I want to see other sides of you, too. As many as you have. As many as you’ll let me see.”

_ “Megatron,” _ Optimus breathed. He had words, but far too many of them to say-- he just wanted, he needed to be close to Megatron,  _ right now. _ He grabbed Megatron by the face and pulled him in for a hard, messy kiss.

Megatron growled into the kiss, sounding more desperate than anything else, which was only emphasized by how tightly he put his arms around Optimus and squeezed him close. There was no room for finesse, only passion; lips pressed to teeth, noses pushing against each other. Optimus didn’t need sensuality, he just needed  _ Megatron. _

“You can  _ have me,” _ Optimus gasped as soon as they came apart. “You can have anything you want.”

Because Megatron already had him, and he had used that ownership to bring him pleasure and comfort. He was trustworthy for this and for everything Optimus hoped they could have in the future.

Megatron’s optics brightened. “Mine,” he said, low and firm.

“Mine,” Optimus agreed, and pulled him down for another, softer kiss.

  
  
  


After they both calmed down enough to stop kissing each other every second, Optimus finally got the cuddling session he had been wishing for since he first woke up. He fell asleep again, in fact, and only woke up when Megatron shoved him playfully, holding a cube of energon in a way that gave Optimus a delicious feeling of deja vu. Then Megatron insisted on holding the cube for him as he drank. Being fed by someone else while laying in bed should have felt lazy and undignified, but Optimus quite frankly didn’t care.

Megatron had to go to his study to take care of something afterwards, but he gave Optimus permission to walk around before he left. Eventually, the novelty of having nothing to do wore off, and Optimus dragged himself out of the comfortable pile of pillows and blankets to explore Megatron’s home. The living area and kitchen were rather sparse and mundane, so he didn’t do much more than survey it for the general layout before he moved on to the wash racks. It was impressively spacious, having a storage closet with gallons of cleaning products Optimus couldn’t completely identify the purpose of, as well as a separate bathtub  _ and _ shower. As he looked at the latter area, Optimus had a sudden, vivid recollection of how Megatron had held him against the wall while he cried and gasped wordlessly for him.

Optimus’ valve tightened underneath its panel, and he put his hand over it in reflex before belatedly looking around, checking to be sure Megatron wasn’t there to see such an embarrassing reaction. It wasn’t that he was ashamed, exactly. He was just taken aback at how soon his interfacing array was ready for another round. It seemed his body simply couldn’t get enough of Megatron.

To be fair,  _ he _ couldn’t get enough of Megatron either.

Optimus returned to the berthroom and put his hands on his hips. He peeked through the doorway and saw that, across the living room, the door to Megatron's study was still closed.

When he turned back around, the closet doors next to the wash racks entrance caught his attention. The lights on the lock panel were off, indicating that the locks were inactive, and... Well, if Megatron had anything in there that he wanted to keep to himself, he would have certainly remembered to lock the doors; he wasn't careless or forgetful. If there really  _ was _ something in there that Optimus shouldn't see, he could always be honest, tell Megatron what he had done, and apologize...

Still not entirely convinced there wasn't some sort of trap on the door, Optimus slid one of them open by inches with a single finger. He couldn't see anything conspicuous-- there were just some shelves, and drawers, and vague outlines of strange shapes that he couldn't really identify. He slid the door open more firmly. Once it was about halfway open, the overhead lights in the closet clicked on, and Optimus...

Optimus... reset his optics. Several times. Did Megatron  _ really _ just-- habitually keep a dozen false spikes on the top shelf, right at optic level? They weren't out in the open-- they were in his closet, but-- really? And then, against his better judgment, Optimus' optics dragged downwards to the next row, and  _ that _ was where the spike toys started to reach monstrous proportions... in more ways than one. The one Megatron had used on him last night was right there on the far side of the shelf, looking tame in comparison.

_ "Did you know that this particular toy is one of my favorites?" _

Optimus shivered. His valve was definitely starting to lubricate again just remembering. He decided to retreat from the closet and shut the door again before he did or  _ saw _ anything else that would weaken his better judgment.

A hand smacked lightly on his aft and squeezed, and a split second later Megatron whispered into Optimus’ audial, “See anything in particular that you like?”

“Megatron!” Optimus yelped. He whirled to face Megatron on instinct, heating up with surprise, embarrassment, and guilt in equal measure. “You have-- what is all of this  _ for?” _

“I would think the purpose would be obvious,” Megatron said with his head tilted, still smirking like he was enjoying this debacle. “After all, I didn’t know what your preferences would be, so I made sure to cast as wide of a net as possible, so to speak.”

Casually, he stepped around Optimus, grabbed the door, and slid it all the way inside of the wall, putting the entirety of the closet's lewd tools on display. There weren’t just false spikes. There were also valve toys. And an entire shelf of different handcuffs. Another of gags and blindfolds. And a few collars, and whips, and crops, and--  _ leashes _ hanging from hooks on the wall. There were other things too, but Optimus was practically short-circuiting at this point.

"Megatron..." Optimus pressed his fingers to his temples. "You did all of this...just because I fragged you in your office once?"

"I wasn't going to let you outdo me in interfacing," Megatron answered, mouth slanting sideways in seeming displeasure that Optimus wasn't reacting the way he wanted.

_ Primus, I'm courting this mech now. _ Optimus' lips started to tremble, and he quickly slid one hand over his mouth to cover it. "Megatron," he said as steadily as he could, "You flirted with me for a month, went on a date with me, negotiated a kink checklist with me, and then fucked me for hours on end specifically to fulfill my secret fantasies. I think you went overboard on the route of 'outdoing' me."

Now Megatron looked pleased again. "Since when have you known me to do anything by halves? He prowled closer and lifted Optimus’ chin with the curl of his finger. “It worked, didn’t it? I didn’t just outdo you, after all. Now I  _ have _ you.”

Optimus stared at him. Something in his face gave him away, because Megatron’s expression shifted from smug affection to wariness within seconds.

“It did work,” Optimus answered slowly. “And I appreciate it very much.” He took a step forward, crowding into Megatron’s personal space. He put his hands on Megatron’s hips and pushed him back.

Megatron raised a brow ridge. “What are you doing?” Despite the confusion in his words, he still took a step back when Optimus pushed him again. Then another. He looked over his shoulder at where the berth was coming closer and closer, then back at Optimus, just in time to see the growing smile on his face. “Optimus…”

He pushed Megatron hard, and by the wide-opticked look on the other’s face as he fell backwards onto the berth, perhaps the sudden ease with which Megatron was bending his knees wasn’t entirely voluntary.

“I just want to show you how  _ grateful _ I am. After all, effort like this should be rewarded in kind, don’t you think?”

There was that familiar stubbornness; even flat on his back, Megatron managed to look down his nose imperiously at Optimus. However, the display was weakened somewhat by the way his fingers were digging into the covers, and by the way the corner of his mouth twitched microscopically as he blustered, "You think you can return the favor, Optimus?"

Optimus grinned as he rested one knee on the edge of the berth, perching himself over Megatron's spread legs. "I know I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to my beloved readers! Today, I give you MegOP porn. The rest of this year? The same.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
